Today I am wearing a dress. The dress is orange. These are both very strange and wondrous things in my world. There is no reason at all for this, except that I Felt Like It, which is a justification I love. (Also, it goes swish!)
(Badly lit photo. It is warm, but gloomy dark here.)
I had a bit of a wardrobe clearout, and finally rid myself of a whole heap of ill-fitting clothes. In fact, ill-fitting doesn’t do them justice, they were just unfitting. Why was I hanging onto trousers which fall straight down off my hips? Yes, I have no self-control and can gain pounds overnight simply through inhaling cake, but really, a wardrobe full of clothes two sizes too big Will Not Help with this situation.
I panic in changing rooms. I can compute ‘item too small, therefore you need to get bigger size’, but if I try something on in a size I think should fit me and it’s too big, I just decide I am deluded, and it can’t be, and buy it anyway. This is plainly ridiculous, and I need to ignore numbers and labels. I found at least three new items bought this summer, which are quite simply (at least) a size too big. I’m a little afraid I’ll have to become one of those women who takes their honest friend shopping to tell her what she looks like.
Notes to self:
-never buy M & S trousers, however good the colour, fabric, price, there is always something peculiar about the cut which will reveal itself the first day you wear them
-linen trousers will stretch more than you believe is possible
-cunning use of biascut fabric may almost give the illusion of a waist
-at 37, it is probably too late to keep hoping the bosom fairy will visit, which means there are some tops you are never going to be able to do justice to
Now I have but one problem: I really want to go shopping, and buy new swirly things to wear…