It was Saturday night. I am young(ish) free (from commitment, so long as you ignore the mortgage) and single (despite not wanting to be) and I decided that I needed to drag myself out and have a great time. I enrolled the help of one of my long suffering friends, and a night of fun and dancing away troubles until the small hours was agreed upon. The plan was changed slightly when my long suffering friend realised that she had her girls and so would need a baby sitter and altered to a drink in the local pub when said baby sitter had to be home at a reasonable hour. However, I was still going out on a Saturday night and looking forward to it…although after a day of DIY I was less keen, but it had been my idea so I wasn’t able to cancel, especially as a baby sitter had been booked!
Knowing we were going to the local pub I put on a smart top and some jeans. That statement was not as easy as it may sound, you see when I moved in with him I went through my wardrobe and threw away all my clothes that I hadn’t warn during the time we had been together. Obviously I still have draws rammed full of clothes, a fair few pairs of shoes and a double wardrobe of dresses (I’m still a woman) but would you believe I often have nothing to wear? My dresses were either too summer holiday, too smart or too short; same rule applied to my skirts. The tops were either too casual or made me resemble a nun (I wanted to show a little flesh!) the shoes I decided on were lovely, until I realised they were peep toe and I hadn’t had time to paint my toe nails and so I threw on my trusty black heels and headed to collect my friend.
I turned up on her doorstep just as she was jumping in the shower, although before she got in she asked “what are you wearing tonight”. I told her the clothes I was wearing and she said “oh, I was going to go a bit more dressed up, do you fancy raiding my wardrobe?” So whilst she showered I spent another 20 minutes starring at her wardrobe wondering what the hell I was going to wear.
The problem this time was not the lack of clothing but more the very different shapes of mine and my friends body. I have curves, boobs and am 5 ft 4. She is tall, skinny and does not have boobs. The great thing is that we can, and have on many occasions fitted into each others clothes so I wasn’t completely panicked and I do love raiding other peoples wardrobes all I had to do was find the right item. Luckily, I had her two darling daughters on hand to help me. “How about this one” they said as they pulled out a short, lacey black and gold number “or this one” as out came a full length black valor gown. I poured myself a glass of wine.
To be continued…..