This month NZ No-Idea brings you this in depth interview with Christchurch socialite Hagen “Bridesmaid” Kerr. Known for being able to talk under 15 feet of concrete, this enigmatic man has captured the hearts of thousands of readers with his willingness to share his understanding of human frailty and the female condition.

Our reporter, Simone Poohforbrains made a date to catch the “Bridesmaid” on his home turf, in suburban Christchurch. Simone’s story captures the soul of this complex and passionate man. Over to Simone….

I arrived slightly late, having got caught in the traffic exiting Christchuch’s business district, the predictable jam around the newly installed traffic lights attracting as many spectators as commuters. A brand new Morris Minor cuts daringly between the Ford Prefects and Hillman Imps, pointing the way to a daringly new future. Hagen’s place is set back from the road, surrounded by manicured gardens, already I was getting a feel for the conundrum, the riddle of a man who on the one hand typifies the solidarity of an older generation, but could be the voice of the new. Stepping inside I can’t help but notice the plethora of modern appliances, the doorbell ringing crisply, a telephone on the hallway table and an electric clock marking the passage of time. Hagen politely takes my coat and hat and ushers me into his loungeroom. In the background, “The Sweet”, (“Ballroom Blitz”currently number 5 in the top 40, choice. Ed), plays on a modern record player, the collection of vinyl stacked behind testament to Hagen’s love of music.

I open the conversation with a gambit:

“You have been accused of being too avant-garde for the older generation of New Zealanders, how do you reconcile your Imperialist politics with the emergence of technology ?”

Hagen purses his lips, hands clasped together as if in prayer and smiles wistfully. I brace myself. Have I offended the great man with my question ? Hagen’s sensitive side has been well documented, who will ever forget his passionate appeal to the Government for the introduction of sensitivity training for GW playtesters….

“ It isn’t hard you know. Imperialistic….are you going to drink that ?….policies are but one segment of an over arching…..strange, I could have sworn I’d mended that crochet doily…..philosophy that runs deeply in the New Zealander psyche. Take my use of template weapons as an example, many would argue…..yes, thanks, I’ll have my tea later in the conservatory darling…..they have no place in the conduct of gentlemanly gaming, but I would…no, he’ll have to wait, the Christian Men’s Association annual dance needs to be as gay as possible and bringing it forward before the…..yes ?….bunting is prepared…..no, absolutely not…….say the skill required to place, delicately mind you, with sensitivity, pie plates, is not to be dismissed lightly….I say, that is a smashing skirt ? a little short for my liking……where was I ?….ah yes…..the wolf scouts were a travesty of course, we can all see that now, but at the time they were…..No, I thought the veil offset the cream dress beautifully and will match my beige safari suit perfectly…..well , perhaps a little too advanced for the age of men at arms and they only had themselves to blame. The colour scheme was very well executed though, my man in Wellington co-ordinated the whole thing and without style, what have you got exactly hmmmm ?”

Hagen sits back in his chair, adjusting his cravat to a rakish angle, not the slightest bit exhausted for having spent the better part of 3 minutes talking without taking a breath. The rumours of his passion were well founded. I find myself bemused by his rapid fire delivery of sentences, his comb-over flicking back and forth as his head nods energetically in time to his staccato assertions. I try another tack, probing this great intellect and oft misunderstood genius.

“Modern marriage ? Your opinions are well documented. Will you ever lose the bridesmaid title ? Will your time….”

I can’t get the sentence out before Hagen interrupts me, his small, pig like eyes rolling slavishly behind his glinting spectacles.

“It was my choice, mine alone and Dunn, well, Dunn and Borthwick…”

He emphasises the “and” as if it were some conspiracy…

“… are cheapening the whole ideal of the institution. They have no respect for the tenets of composition. They complain, constantly you know, about my scouts but they never led me up the aisle did they ? A simple poll would show they are not overpowered and the proof is in the eating…..one day this damn decade will end and we will join the rest of the world as it surges forward into the 80’s and then, mark my words, the Australians, the Canadians and the ….sorry ?…..2007 ?….are you sure ?….yes well….oh blast, get the phone will you darling and tell the operator I am busy….thanks Graeme….sorry, where was I ? ….Dunn, he coined it you know ? back in ’76, he was jealous over my Leyland P76 and while it did fit that 44 gallon drum, it wouldn’t fit Borthwick’s head in the boot would it ? That was the whole problem, subjectivity and lack of respect for people who say a lot of things in very long sentences. Frankly, I’m not happy being the bridesmaid and I wish it would end, but what can a young…..no, I said I was busy, and pass me my Dubonnet if you wouldn’t mind please Graeme, in the tall glass thankyou……man in Christchurch do ? paint I suppose ? the Triumph Herald doesn’t need cleaning this week and with the 2500TC about to be released, what is there to do except paint ? That’s what makes us so good down here, away from the smoke of Wellington and all the distractions of that hedonistic society. Pretenders of course….one day I shall be the bride, my tactical execution will be second to none……do be a darling and get me some ice Graeme….we had some delivered this morning didn’t we ?…..the blending of red and grey was divine, if I do say so myself, so the sisters deserved their place, but, , well, it was too late, all I seem good for it to follow in Dunn’s footsteps….”

At this point, Graeme, Hagen’s manservant runs to his side to console him, darting a furious look towards me and hissing “there is no need to bring these issues up”. The emphasis on the word “Ithuse”.

Then the much admired phenomena takes place. The transformation. Hagen’s demeanour changes from a pathetic, sobbing bridesmaid into a man of conviction, of resilience and determination.

“But I’ll show them, Liber Animus will be my crowning glory. Dunn hasn’t been there before has he ? Liber Animus is Dunn’s Bridesmaids party, and that is where I will be the Bride, before him…..and I shall wear the pink frilly underwear and he will be forced to catch my bouquet, it will be mine, all mine, nothing else is important, I deserve it”

Tags: 2006, hagen, random

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 10th, 2009 at 2:22 pm and is filed under Fluff. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.