Middle Aged Dress Hunts and Hangovers

I had been invited to the lovely Scottish Sharon's wedding reception but had nothing suitable to wear.

It was His, (S's) birthday on Friday but being parents of very young ones, we were so knackered that we ended up just farting into the settee, watching a film and eating pizza.

Saturday morning was the same as most Saturday mornings.  Because my work place is such a rigid environment, due to become even more strict, on my weekends, I hate to be hurried or given deadlines. 

Thus, we end up not leaving the house til 11am, much to S's frustration.

So, kids in tow, we drove to the shops to buy me a dress.  I hate bringing the kids with me as you cannot concentrate at all and end up getting very hot and very, very bothered.

S hates shopping, especially on his birthday weekend but offered to give me his valued opinion, (I'm sure his real reason was to keep me on schedule, so he wouldn't be left with both kids when the football started).

We rushed from shop to shop and I did actually go back to Top Shop and purchase the first dress I'd tried on.  I was concerned about the length but the fitting room assistant, all 17 years old of her, advised me that the dress looked lovely.  S also said I looked really 'hot'.  I imagine the heated look was due more to my rushing about in packed shops with two under 5's questioning my every move.

I bought the dress and some earrings and we left, dropping the kids at the grandparents so we could watch the football in the pub.

When we all got home for dinner, I excitedly tried my dress on with the nude heels I'd be wearing and to my horror, saw my middle aged arse poking out the bottom! BRILLIANT! I'd have to go back, on my own in the morning. First thing.

Sunday morning I heaved my tired body out of bed and without even brushing my hair, hopped in the car and sped off to the shops, alone.

It's weird when you are 38.  Your thoughts and feelings and views are conflicting quite often.  One minute I'll be leafing through Grazia, or Heat and giving my opinion on Jessie J's album, the next minute I'll be fretting about the state of young peoples spelling!

It can be a lonely experience, shopping for a dress at my age.  I exhausted the entire high street and by the umpteenth shop and 30th changing room visit, I really wasn't at my most patient.

Staff in Top Shop were really smiley, helpful and polite. Staff in most of the other shops were useless, vacant, rude and very, very young.  More than a handful of them made no attempt to hide their displeasure at the sight of a middle aged woman asking them for a larger size in a dress they probably wore the night before.  And in Debenhams, trying to find an assistant, just to tell you where the changing rooms were was task enough.  I forget which shop it was that, after locating the changing rooms by myself, I had to press a buzzer and 'wait for assistance'.  After nearly 3 minutes, nobody came so I threw the dresses on the floor and stomped off.  My mutterings becoming louder and swearier.  I must have looked like a mad woman.  I have worked in shops before and it's easy.  Just smile, help and don't look down your nose at the customers.

Anyway, all the dresses were really really short.  Who are all these fashion conscious Pigmy's taking over our high streets?  I ended up buying a long red silky maxi dress.  Ideal really coz the fake tan I'd applied the night before had gone badly wrong, leaving me looking like I'd eaten spaghetti hoops with my feet.

So, I got home, feeling like I'd been kicked in the back, (another gripe of middle agedness) and started to get ready , after eating my dinner that S had kindly cooked for me.

All agreed (S & the kids) that "Mummy looks  beeeeautifuuuuul"! and at that moment, I spilt a blob of cocoa butter right down the front of the plain red silk.

No time! I wiped it half heartedly, scratched my earlobes which had started to itch due to the new trendy earrings and waited for my friend Justina.

She arrived and said I looked lovely but 'maybe (I) should wear different knickers".  The knickers I had on, looked a bit lumpy.  I couldn't muster the energy so we left for the wedding reception.  Justina looking gorgeous and early 20's and Me, lumpy drawers, itchy earlobes and a stained dress.... I'm sure i was not the vision Chris De BLeugh had in mind when he wrote Lady in Red!

We got to Justina's house for her to fling on her dress and in a flash and just like that, she threw 4 perfect dresses out of her wardrobe and on to the bed stating matter of factly that "if you like any of them, you can take them, they're too big for me now"! Even with the underlying fat observation, those words were music to my ears and the pile of beautiful, KNEE LENGTH NOT CHEEK SKIMMERS before me were like gifts from a blessed fashion angel!

So, I ended up wearing a classy strapless number and it didn't even matter about the spaghetti hoop eating feet coz the full skirt kind of cast a shadow over them.

The night was fab.  Sharon looked beautiful and their first dance was everything it should be.  All my colleagues looked happy and slightly catatonic before the alcohol kicked in.  I got very, very drunk and danced with my 'nephew' Joe who 'reeled me in' with a dance move that would have had Patrick Swayze turning in his grave, (RIP Patrick).  Myself and Lola sang, (shouted) along to 500 miles in our best Proclaimers accents and Jo R did not fulfill the bet I'd conjured up for her, what with all the kilts wandering about.  Beautiful Janet the Witch has a delightful photo of us that she will not allow me to have, something to do with the odd growth she had developed under her face, just for said photo. 

Today, I shuffled into work like Ozzy Osborne, after stopping on route to buy The Daily Star, a tub of paracetamol and a bacon sandwich.  The lovely Dave allowed me to leave an hour early and I stopped to by veg & dauphinoise potatoes for S & my dinner, which I ate whilst typing this...mmmmn fillet steak.....a rare treat as we're saving for our holibags.

The kids are in bed.  Safe and warm, after I read them a very animated, theatrical version of The Cat In The Hat Comes Back.  I think being over tired and a little woolly headed made me more entertaining and they smiled a lot.

I'm now gonna sign of and go and cuddle S's head off.  Night night you lot and thank you for following me from my old blog zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz