Now on some days I hit it right on the nail. Shoes that don’t hurt after 5 minutes of walking, the right skirt for the outside wind level and the correct amount of layers that would be sufficient to either keep me warm if it turns chilly or isn’t too much to carry if we have one of those sunny spells I’ve heard so much about.
Today was not one of those days! I looked out of my window at my sunny, recently tidied front garden and thought this would be a lovely day to wear my pretty hummingbird tea dress. A beautifully light summer dress with cap sleeves, nipped in waist and a slightly more than an A line skirt in a pale green adorned with delicate pairs and trios of pinky/green hummingbirds. This dress conjures up idyllic ideas of tea on the lawn of a large country house, popping in to buy the entire contents of Neptune or The White Company without feeling a fraud or cycling to the local farm shop on a vintage bicycle complete with basket to purchase a cacophony of locally produced goodies.
So with all that in mind I donned my hummingbird tea dress, found matching shoes and tottered off (in a slightly sweaty fog as I was actually running rather late for the dentist) expecting to grab a coffee on the way to finish the look whilst swanning around town, greeting all my friends that just happen to be in for breakfast at the same time (imagine the myriad of book covers that have the drawings of glamorous but slightly quirky women on the front doing exactly this. Katie Fford, Sophie Kinsella etc etc)
Any way I digress. It was in the car on the way into town that I started to notice the waviness of the trees (technical term) and a few people were wearing cardigans. This niggled at a small part of my brain way back in the depths that brought up the thought that it might just be a touch windy… (not unlike my other half after curry night) not ideal if one is wearing a dress! This turned out to be warning number one.
Warning number two was much more dramatic… The instant I stepped out of the car what I can only describe as a huge gust of wind produced by god himself, whooshed up and rendered me bare from the waist down! And although I’ve already shared too much information with you dear friends I must just say that today is not a good underwear day… Thank goodness that the only occupants of the car park at that time were two distinguished older gentleman who were engrossed in something within their car.
With already an embarrassing start to the morning and the ever nagging sensation that it was getting closer and closer to my allotted dentist time I bundled up my bag, phone, keys and cardigan in one arm and grabbed one side of my dress with the other almost as though my life depended on it.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not to preserve my dignity so much (I’ve had 4 children, my dignity left the building a long time ago) it was more to preserve the book cover ideal of a vintage girl about town (remember the coffee/bike/country house etc etc)
With this Igor like body position I half ran, half walked (feet had begun to hurt by that point due to the wonderfully pretty yet quite uncomfortable shoes) like a penguin on heat with things slipping from one hand and the bottom of my beautiful tea dress scrunched up in the other. This inadvertently highlighted the horrendous VPL that my bad choice of ill fitting, dark coloured underwear had kindly supplied. Along the way I swear to god my heels found every possible hole to get stuck in compounding the fact that life was not going to plan so far. So the half run/walk was punctuated by small whimpers of the F word and the jagged scratching sound of the material on said heels ripping as I wrenched them out of the copious amounts of holes I came across (seriously, why do I pay council tax…)
But you’ll be pleased to know that I made it to the dentist with a minute to spare where I promptly sat for 20 minutes (she was running late) with the dewy glow of fresh perspiration, smelling like the arse end of satan (synthetic fabrics and movement don’t mix)
The very lovely dental nurse commented on how summery I looked on the way into the consultation room and I didn’t have the heart to tell her what a tit I’d made of myself on the way there and how two old boys had got more than they’d bargained for whilst contemplating their trip into town.
You might have guessed by this point that I had to repeat the whole scenario to make it back to the car, so to break up the heinous event about to unfold, I made a stop at Harriet’s Tea Rooms where I stuffed my red, sweaty face with cake and tea and regrouped knowing that that was and will be a common occurrence for me. But do you know what… I’m A OK with that because I look and feel damn good doing it, despite the bad underwear and sweaty pits. I encourage more of you lovely ladies to don a tea dress and do a Marilyn in town as for nothing else it liberates you and gives you a giggle when you look back.
I hope I’ve cheered up your Monday my dears and look forward to writing for you again soon. TTFN xx