Just back from a completely hopeless trawl through teenage shops in search of appropriate 80’s garb for the fancy dress farce aka school dance. I thought my luck was in when the main Sydney paper had a piece on how the 80’s look is back in fashion complete with photos of Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell et al. I gazed admiringly at them and set off for the mall with a skip in my step. Fortunately it was during school time so the chance of running into any teenagers I knew was mercifully slim as I wriggled my way in and out of a variety of highly unsuitable outfits. I could however feel the sales girl, approximate age 16, rolling her eyes as she passed me in various lace and leopard print garments. Suffice to say I didn’t venture out of my miniscule cubicle to look in the main mirror as the reflection in the cubicle mirror was enough to have me shooting back into my everyday uniform of jeans and shirt, double quick time.
Such was my despair on the shopping front that I came home and resurrected the 1986 dress I wore to a May Ball which has spent the last 20 odd years in a dressing up box. I was of course, secretly gratified that I still fitted into it, though bear in mind I was not a particularly elfin 20 year old. My memory however had not served me wrong, there is a reason why I have not worn it in two decades. The best way to describe how I look in it is Princess Diana’s wedding dress meets a chintz sofa, and the sofa wins! If I tell you it has bodice lacing up the back it gives you an idea of the full horror of it. If I am kind to my former self, perhaps the glow of youth was enough to enable me to carry off the look of a full blown, mixed fruit pavlova, but in my heart of heart I fear not, and I grieve for my misguided 20 year old self.
The good news is that I have now rummaged though various wardrobes and managed to assemble an outfit that both I and most importantly DQ no. 2, the acknowledged fashion queen in the house, deem acceptable and even dare I say it, mildly attractive.
To move onto more interesting topics, I was fascinated by a corporate memo that went round Simon’s work which dealt with acceptable behaviour in the bathrooms. Whilst most of it was along the standard lines of “Leave the bathroom as you would wish to find it” type advice, there was also a puzzling stricture about “Don’t stand on toilet seats”, which was quite enough to make my mind boggle.
I am a complete sucker for any kind of competition, with a naïve faith that I am about to win big time. I find myself planning holidays on the basis that my 25 witty words on the beauties of a region are about to win us an all expenses holiday for 4, (which could prove slightly tricky in itself as there are actually 5 of us in the family). So far my successes have been relatively minor but I have just won a coffee machine, rather embarrassingly by dint of buying a packet of strepsils rather than any skill on my part. I was highly excited about this when they rang with the good news and visions of myself setting up as an inhouse barista, until I googled the machine and discovered it retailed at Aus $90 (about STG 45 the way the currency is going at present). Lest I sound ungrateful I should point out it has been a big hit as it produces impressive amounts of steam and the DQs have been frothing hot chocolate with enthusiasm. I feel this could be the start of a good run on the competition front and I am just waiting for a loud hooting to tell me the prize Audi is outside along with the men carrying the keys to our new holiday house and the lottery cheque.
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