Recently, my husband and I dined out, just the two of us. Sadly, we were at a well-known fast food chain grabbing a bite to eat after a hospital appointment. I wore glasses on my make-up free face and as I chomped on a burger I mused: “I’d never let my friends see me like this”.
He quipped back: “I’ve seen you looking worse”.
It is true. He has. And it is true that I think about how I look when I see my friends...I covert their chunky bracelets and ankle boots and I am chuffed to bits when they like my new bag.
Then, the other night, I was off out with the girls, and that old thing came over me – the frantic wardrobe scavenging. Hot, bothered and half made up, I searched in vain for the perfect outfit. The one that made me look very thin and right on trend. The one that didn’t exist.
In the end, I combined some skinny-jean-effect patterned leggings with a black high-neck blouse, both of which I’d worn, but never together.
When I came downstairs, my husband, already fraying a little, temper-wise, at the idea of a Friday night babysitting, looked at my attire with bemusement. Where was the skirt? Then he grumbled that I ‘never wore anything like that when we went out’.
Disconcerted but also late, I trotted off to our local Pizza Express. A toot from a passing van man compounded my self-doubt and had me yanking my coat down over my bottom and walking into the restaurant slightly less than super-confidently.
When I went to the toilet half way through the night I glanced in the mirror and thought “Bugger. He’s right. It does look like I’ve forgotten to put my skirt on”. And when we went our separate ways at the end of the evening, I tried to avoid the street lamplight and waved from behind parked cars.
I arrived home to find husband and son both sleeping soundly, and as I made my way to bed I concluded that it served me right for trying too hard to impress my friends and not trying hard enough the rest of the time.
That was it. I resolved there and then to be more even-handed in my efforts to look presentable. Capsule wardrobe of design classics and chic ‘loungewear’, here I come. Of course, I resolved this as I slipped into my absolute favourite, oldest, baggiest pyjamas. Heaven.