Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Titles are for quitters. No, I don't know why.

I just bought a dress. The ONLY reason I bought the dress was to annoy the shop assistant.

Is that in ANY WAY normal behaviour?

The thing is, right, that I'm going to a wedding on Saturday and I wanted to buy a dress for it. Because I own four dresses. Two belong firmly in the 'glamourous slinky black' category, one in the 'hang on there, isn't that dress a bit see through?' category, and the other in the 'my word that girl has some cleavage going on right there' category.

None of which are wedding-appropriate. Unless you are the vicar.

So I found this dress. Not too short. Not see through. And, well, I am well endowed so there is SOME cleavage but not very much. Summery, I thought. Pretty. Smart-but-not-too-smart.

But Shop Assistant? Oh no. Not wedding-y, she said. BEACHY, she said.

Oh. Not even with a jacket? And some, like, shoes and stuff?

She grimaced. Weeell. Is it an outdoor wedding? (read: on a BEACH?)

Oh fuck off, I thought, and bought it.

It's a smart dress! Who wears a SMART DRESS on the beach? I favour the 'as little as possible' approach, personally. Just bikini bottoms usually. I generally do that because I am a bit racy.

The Shop Assistant had perfect hair and immaculate lipgloss and high splinky splonky shoes. I have a ripped denim skirt, messy-to-say-the-very-least hair, no make up on and a ring through my nose. And lots of necklaces that don't really match. I think our standards might be a teeeency bit different.

Anyway. Just thought I'd tell you that.

But yesterday I got the loveliest present ever. Better than, like, a pony, or a dragon of my very own (although that would be COOOOL. I could call it Fire-o or The Scaled Master of Fire or something).

The Crush went to Italy and brought me back a copy of my favourite book. In Italian. I know I sound like a geek, and maybe I am one a bit, but that is AMAZING. I've read Haroun and The Sea of Stories a trillion and one times so I know it pretty well. I know how it sounds and feels and all all of its little idiosyncrasies. So now I can read the words in a language I have never learned, and know exactly what they mean because of the context they're in. That makes me happy.

There's a song in there somewhere.

What else is there to impart? Oh, yeah, I left my keys in Paris. I know, I know. Just hand me the dunce hat now, I will wear it with, if not pride, then certainly a fair amount of resignation. It's ok though because my parents are going to visit this week so they can bring them back for me. But still. Scatty I remain.

I am, however, feeling a lot better. Cheerfuller. Fuller of cheer.

I have had a little more sleep than usual, I am excited about things. I have enough mental capacity to be able to plan things for myself and to even consider the possibility that maybe things will end well. That I will get where I want to be.

You know, I've never been QUITE sure what the phrase 'swings and roundabouts' means, but I have an odd suspicion that it might apply right about here.

3 Comments:

Blogger Doug said...

What is with the clothing blogs. You and Bug must think alike. If I had a clothing crave of some sort, I would post about it. You know what, I need a belt. Maybe I'll have some crazy time getting a belt and can post about it. I need to get fitted for my superhero costume sometime soon too. Oh, don't change. Ever since I started working a normal job, I have changed my looks completely. No more mohawk or long hair, no more wallet with chain longer than my leg, no peircings or tatoos. I miss those days, but I think right now, I would miss the $ more.

8:34 pm

 
Blogger JB said...

Well, I “get” the clothing posts because there is a wedding I must attend and I, too, must find a dress that will make me look sexy but not slutty, successful but not stuck-up, feminine but not frilly.

It’s a tall order for a dress, really.

Also, I would like the dress to convey this message: “Please-do-not-ask-me-why-my-husband-and-I-don’t-have-childern-yet-damn-it-it’s-none-of-your-business-and-yes-we’re-happy-regardless-so-fuck-off.”

Is there a dress that can do that? Honestly, I need that dress.

P.S. I love your two writers—I just read “The Salmon of Doubt,” which only made me regret again the fact that Adams is no longer with us.

12:37 am

 
Blogger Bug said...

Excuse me? But where is the rule that there must be NO cleavage at a wedding? Not in my family, that's for sure

If you've got them, show them off, my lovely!

The Crush sounds diabolically sweet. Are you SURE he's not evil? Are you SURE you don't want to share him?? :)

Doug, clothes are good. They cover you up and stop you being arrested for indecent exposure (although that would DEFINITELY be a story for the Christmas dinner table!). Please write about your belt, I'll read it!

Was the sales bitch REALLY pissed off with you? Did you laugh in her face? Cos that would've been SMASHING

1:10 pm

 

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