WE all make mistakes – it’s part of life. Well, it would be pretty boring if we didn’t.
Some can be more painful than others, like the American couple who went to a tattooist whose literacy was not what it should have been.
The man left the parlour with the thought-provoking and unintentionally horticultural moniker “Yesterday is meaningless, tomarrow is everything” while the girl left with the unfortunate “sweet pee” embossed on her back.
On more artistic front there is ITV’s mistake of making the truly awful Titanic series, which makes Raise The Titanic (one of box office’s biggest ever flops) look like a rival to James Cameron’s Oscar-winning offering.
And then we have the world of the hastily put out Royal souvenir.
The headline ‘It’s A Mugs Game’ would have been a hard one to get away from after a new line of souvenirs celebrating the first anniversary of last year’s Royal Wedding has made one glaring error – it features the wrong brother.
The bodged memento depicts portraits of mismatched royals Prince Harry and the Duchess of Cambridge on English fine bone china.
On the reverse of the mug, produced by online company Guandong Enterprises, is the rather touching message: ‘The body of a man, the beauty of a woman, may they produce children’.
The £10.99 mug is being sold from a website – whose sales pitch reads: ‘Please join with us in celebrating the greatest wedding the world has ever witnessed, when Lady Kate, beautiful and gracious in her glorious dress, bejewelled and lovely, took the hand of her William Windsor, recorded on television for future generations, for all eternity’.
I have to say this made me laugh, although I do fear the computer operator who scanned the wrong image in will be getting a free gift of a P45 sometime soon.
His or her mistake is certainly a tad less distasteful than what I consider to be the worst Royal souvenir error. I spotted it in late 1997, a few months after Princess Diana was killed in a Paris car crash.
In a shop across the road from Shakespeare’s birthplace in Stratford-upon-Avon there was a two foot tall ‘high class’ china replica of the princess leaning on a plinth straight from the stories of Zeus and a dove of peace perched on her wrist.
I’m a realist, there was almost certainly an American tourist behind me ready to stump up the £700 it was being peddled for, but I found the whole thing more than a tad grubby.
Now I would never want the words ‘sweet pee’ tattooed on my back, but I reckon I could find that honest mistake a little easier to explain than having a two foot high effigy of Princess Di in my home.
And I’ll feel exactly the same tomorrow.