Auntie Doris’s Great Works of Art: Bonus Edition – Jeff Koons: Made in Heaven, 1989

imageMy good friend, the Puppetmaster, Peter Allen, suggested that I should write a piece about this work by Jeff Koons. To be honest, I thought that Peter had a bit more about him than to entertain filth like this, but then when I thought about it, I realised that he’s a man, and they are all filthy so and sos when it boils down to it. Even Harry H. Corbett was caught with his hand up the skirt of a female panda called Sue, and apparently, that bloke who did Basil Brush was a well known frotteur, which is probably why he spent half his life under the ruddy table.

Any Road, Jeff Koons was as filthy as they come. He was a good enough looking bloke though, and after he he made a fortune out of making balloon models out of stainless steel, there were probably hundreds of women queuing up to get him up the aisle. So what did he do? He chose an actress out of those phonographic films. She wasn’t just any old actress who was used to taking her clothes off though, this one was Ilona Staller, otherwise known as Cicciolina. She had been an Italian Member of Parliament, and had gone on the television and offered to have carnal relations with Saddam Hussein in exchange for him releasing some hostages.

Funnily enough, Saddam Hussein never got back to her, if it had been Lloyd George or Bill Clinton, they would have probably taken up her offer, apart from the fact that Lloyd George was dead and Bill Clinton wasn’t President at the time. Apparently, when he was President, he did look at the possibility of taking some hostages and getting in touch with Ilona, but it all fell through when he got that copydex on that lasses skirt.

Any road, when Jeff Koons married her, he wanted the world to know that he had married a proper phonographic woman, so he did an exhibition called “Made in Heaven” with hundreds of photographs and paintings and other nick nacks, depicting him and her having it off in all sorts of positions. He even had some glass ornaments made of them working their way through that Indian sex book, the Carnal Suitor.

Of course, there was a bit of a hoo ha when people saw what he had done. They said it was filthy. Of course, what a man and a woman get up to in the privacy of their own homes is nobody’s business but their own, but plastering it all over an art gallery for all and sundry to be looking at is another matter entirely. Elderly people, young children and vicars might have accidentally wandered in and seen it and been corrupted for the rest of their living days.

Any road, Ilona left him after a year and went back to Italy, where she continued trying to achieve world peace through stunts like offering to have carnal relations with Osama Bin Laden if he would promise behave his ruddy self in future. Koons went back to being an almost normal artist, making his stainless steel balloon sculptures and other ornaments including a delightful figurine of two Yorkshire terriers, which could almost be my Hairy Mary and my Tuppence

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The Auntie Doris Years: 1935

bairnswear1323aI was twenty one years old in 1935. I was unmarried and living at my parents house. (They gave me the key to the door). I had a job in a factory that made bandages and surgical appliances. And I also had a beautiful baby girl come into my life. April May. But before you jumping to any conclusions. She was my sister! And that was a hell of a shock to all of us. My mother was over forty years old! And my father was a good few years older. And relations had never been all that cordial between them even before she had launched the King Edward at his head. And if possible, since the potato incident, father had been even more uptight, unpredictable and given to lecturing all and sundry about the wages of sinful behaviour, carnal relations being a topic that he had become increasingly fond of denouncing.

I often wonder if Lloyd George had anything to do with it. He was in his 70s by then, but apparently he was a filthy so and so right up to his eighties, when he finally passed over to the other side, and continued to pursue his passions with renewed vigour. My mother always had a thing about Lloyd George. But then she always followed the Liberal politics, and when there was any help needed, in our neck of the woods, she would be there. I sometimes wonder if she hadn’t fallen for the charms of one of Lloyd George’s successors, Herbert Samuel, or Archibald Sinclair. My vote would be Sinclair, as Samuel was almost as long in the tooth as Lloyd George, but Sinclair was a dapper forty something with a twinkle in his eye, and he was a Viscount an’all. In fact Lloyd George might have tipped him the wink about my mother on one of his northern campaigns, and he may well have chanced his arm. All conjecture mind. There are some things that you don’t talk to your mother about, even when you are dead, and even if you did, and she told you, you couldn’t present it as fact anyway.

So there I am with a baby sister, who may or may not be related to Viscount Thurso. Well, my mother needed as much help as I could give her, so I became a dab hand at changing nappies, mixing gripe water, winding, feeding and pushing the perambulator around the neighbourhood. It was great fun, and it kept the men at bay an’all. I wasn’t bothered if they thought she was mine. I knew she wasn’t and the law knew she wasn’t so nobody was going to take her away from me. She was born in wedlock and lived with her parents as far as the law was concerned. But as far as I was concerned, she was my little girl. And she still is. Even though she is going to be seventy nine this year! I still keep an eye on her. And her son. That gormless nephew of mine. Auntie Doris’s pop pick of 1935: “On the Good Ship Lollipop” by Shirley Temple (aged 7). I remember singing it to my little April May, and watching her giggle with delight. It can still bring a happy tear to my eye when I hear it.