May 2010
All about me. Well not too exciting, I will tell you a story.
When I was forty the entrepreneur at the local gown shop asked if I would like to take part in a charity clothes show. They were short of a size 16 and after some trepidation I accepted.
Six of us assembled at the church hall and were amazed as to how many ladies were already queuing for admittance. We had the old scouts’ room for dressing and it still smelled of smelly socks.
There were racks of six items of dress each and it had become rather exciting.
Starting with morning wear there was dressing gowns or leisure pyjamas I really couldn’t see me using these when I put out the rubbish or the washing.
For the stylish odd coffee morning with the gals my ensemble were trousers which my husband said I shouldn’t wear as my bum was too big, a smart jacket with of course gloves and smart low heel shoes.
For the afternoon when we had tea at Fortnum and Mason a straight skirt with floral soft blouse, stole and a small hat. Stoles were new to me at that time and I almost tripped as I climbed the steps to the walk as it slid from my shoulders.
Next my evening wear I was so looking forward to a gorgeous swaying gown with just a little diamante but the evening gowns had to be brought in and mine was this bright emerald green, stiff as a board and a little too long.
By this time I was really enjoying myself, all worries left behind as I swayed my hips along the catwalk forever smiling and stopping to show the folks my pleats and whirls so it didn’t matter when it came to the wedding and a size, yes not the bride but her mum; large flowery hat, suit in a silver gray with a graan again handbag.
I blew a kiss to all at the line up at the end and never was asked again.