I nearly changed the title of this post to 'BLOGGERS RAGE', as l had just written the whole thing and went to save it and must have pressed the wrong button, cos it all disappeared before my very eyes. What l was trying to impart was my disastrous afternoon in the changing room of one of our local department stores. I won't call them fitting rooms, as I wouldn't want to mislead you beacause that would imply, to my mind anyway, that the garments was actually BLOODY FIT ME!!
The thing of it is I am 50 next week and l am meeting up with 18 female friends and family for a meal on Monday evening. As there aren't any plans here for any celebrations, as far as l know, (my expectations for birthdays and anniversaries are apparently absurdly higher than others'). So l decided l would make the best of it and celebrate, because if l don't then this lurking dark heavy cloud that is 50 might just suck me up and wring me out to dry.
In the spirit of the 'glass half full soroity' and with all the will in my world, as this will be the start of a new decade, l shall brush myself off and wade right in positively. Well perhaps, maybe later.
However l am ill prepared, the two dresses l've already bought, which are lovely, don't look lovely when l am the hanger! I look like a sack of spuds! My only alternative is to wear my usual uniform of jeans, though my best long wide leg ones, with a silky top.
But the whole point was to dress up a bit. Not you understand in a glam, glitzy, luxe up for christmas day kind of way and NOT in a fur coat and no knickers kind of way, though l must say that after yesterday l am in desperation leaning that way!
So l decided yesterday to take the bull by the, well, no actually not the horn, but by the bollocks and determined to find something er 'special'.
Although l was prepared to find this task hard, l wasn't prepared for the difficulty l experienced.
It's SALE time, so every rail is in a mess, all sizes and styles muddled up, a bit of pot luck then. I had several forays in and out and in and out of the changing rooms. The sales assistant with her look not even veiled, with a sudden drop down of eyelids whilst she took my figure in, from the floor up and to my head and back down again. Nor for the fact that, not one suggested anything for me to wear, but I did recieve, 'ours are not cut very generously' and then without drawing breath, 'but that's as LARGE as we go!' A classic FFF moment!
Okay, okay, l know l used to be a fashion retailer, in those dark misty bygone years, nay decades., so perhaps my standards are high but standards have fallen so far, l'm in danger of falling in! Where l worked for the trendy shops and the classy fashion departments in well known stores, but bloody heck and eee bye gum and WTF is selling all about nowadays? The only girls that helped were the girls on the changing rooms, allowing me a few at a time.
l went into the personal shopper room, but there wasn't anyone there, it was choc full of sale rails and l waited a few moments feeling out of place and like l wasn't supposed to be there. l was shufflling from foot to foot, so definately furtive!
So did l find anything? Yes, a knitted top and a pink dressing gown, neither of which l plan on wearing on monday night.
What's a girl to do!! sigh!
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