Thursday, November 03, 2016

Don't read this if you don't like clothes

When you've been brought to tears by the plight of 1000 vulnerable refugee children that two "civilised" countries are washing their hands of, and then knocked sideways by some awful family news, it takes time to stabilise yourself in order to be able to blog. 

Once stable, you have to decide what to blog about...

It could be how difficult it is when you're feeling heavy-hearted to respond to chirpy building society assistants who ask if you're using the money you're withdrawing to treat yourself. How intrusive! All I could come out with was a sullen "No." Walking away from the place I realised I should have said what Kit said in a similar situation in Plotting for Grown-ups: "Sex, drugs and rock and roll." 


It could be to list your pet hates, but all I can remember of the list at this moment is people winning a competition opening a bottle of champagne and spraying it everywhere - why do they want to waste champagne????? It makes me want to knock them over the head with the empty bottle.


It could be another third world problem of trying to decide what to wear for a particular smart event and looking in the wardrobe and finding only the unsuitable. My London friend has invited me to the ballet again (whoop whoop). Last time, in June, I wore the same thing as when she took me out to dinner in London, last October. I cannot wear it again: that would be just too country-mousish.

So then, what? I love clothes and could afford something new, but I am afflicted by a Puritan guilt about spending money on clothes, when there are 65 million refugees in the world, half of whom are children. If I'm going to wear something a lot, I can justify it. But I only realistically need smart evening wear about twice a year, so am I justified in forking out for something new? And if the answer is yes, what should I buy? Something classic and black, probably, but Dave has a pathological hatred of black, so much so that he made a white cardboard frame to cover up the edge of his computer monitor. But then, does Dave actually go out to smart affairs with me? Rarely.

This blog post could ramble on for some time, and I don't think the topic is worthy. So let's just say that the Toast item I was dithering over yesterday - loving it, but unsure about its suitability - has now sold out, so that's a decision I don't have to revisit. This could go on for some time, until the day before the ballet, and end up in my same dark tunic dress (a gift) with silk velvet jacket (secondhand Boden) I wore before. And does anyone at the Royal Opera House look at a sixty-something grey haired woman from the sticks, anyway? If only I could wear my birthday hat.

Later: I just tried on some stuff from my wardrobe and found that a classic black top will do very nicely. So the two things I bought from John Lewis yesterday - without much attendant joy - will be going back to the shop. Sorted.


  1. Anonymous10:39 pm

    I think I will wear my blue dress again!

    Or at least, that's what I think today.

    All bets will be off on the night.

    I may go red.

  2. I so wish I had legs that were fit to be seen. maybe then I could have one posh frock as the solution to everything.