This post is brought to you by the word ‘and’

Next weekend, H and I are going to a family wedding. I have approximately 97 million first cousins, so this sort of thing will keep on happening. We are also having the in-Laws over for a night for a completely unrelated jamboree the same weekend. This is going to involve a great deal of flinging ourselves in and out of cars in a state of agitation and silk frocks. Hurrah!

To that end, and also to Christmassy ends, H and I spent the day trapped in a gigantic shopping centre, in which I nagged H into buying a smart suit with the argument ‘but you need a new suit anyway’. H is disgruntled because he has a perfectly nice and rather more colourful jacket that he wanted to wear instead. He is right. It is a lovely jacket. It just makes him look like a Bond villain. Which is probably a rather jolly thing to look like at a wedding, but he doesn’t have a pair of trousers that go with it, and no Bond villain worth his horrendously overbred Persian cat would appear in unsuitable trousers. In the new suit, he looks merely handsome and suave. Heigh ho.

There was a party-frock sale also, so I tried on five dresses, one of which made me look like a Lorne sausage that had been trodden on, one of which made me look like Elizabeth Taylor at a Royal Variety Performance (stylish, but so very not me), one of which made me look pregnant with a fourteen-hooved yak, one of which actively prevented me from sitting down, one of which was very nice, actually, and one of which was divinely cute and crucially, NOT on sale. So I bought that last one. Again, I say, heigh ho. Also, it’s HARD, finding cute party frocks, when you are 36DD and have a belly and hips and an arse like a bouncy castle and yet, crucially, a waist also. HARD, people. And DEPRESSING.

And so and obviously and therefore, my period is due that weekend. Bwahahahahahahahaha!

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7 responses to “This post is brought to you by the word ‘and’

  • Betty M

    Well obviously. I think you need to schedule imaginry important events every single weekend to fool/confuse your innards thereby making sure that occasionally the two dont coincide.
    I hear you on dresses and boobs. Any chest worthy of a proper bra fits into no dress on the high street regardless of the size of the rest of you.

  • Bionic

    36DD?! We are boob-sisters! I am so proud and so with you on the difficulties. No idea if they ship internationally, but when I had more of a waist, I found the dresses made by Trashy Diva magical.

  • a

    If H likes his jacket so well, why hasn’t he purchased proper trousers (pants!) to go with it? I’m sure he looks handsome in his new suit anyway… And if you find a dress that you love and it looks good on you, you should probably always buy it, regardless of the cost.

  • Twangy

    I do like a man in a suit. Ought I to be ashamed of this? Am I unreconstructed, or something? I blame my father. Heh.

    I am all for getting the dress that feels and looks right and to hell with the expense. It’s not every day, after all that you make such an investment.

    Can’t BELIEVE the sharks are coming that weekend, the feckers. :-(

  • Korechronicles

    I hear you on the boobage versus virtually any dress thing. We of the well endowed chest area should have been born in the time of the French Empire when the dresses were designed to hoick that cleavage to a position just under your chin for the enjoyment of others and then the rest of the frock fell from under boob to floor skimming over everything in between. Even the more mature women could pull it off without looking matronly which is the ever present danger in much of current fashion. Which, it seems, is entirely designed for those with a shape I term Barbie Ironing Board.

    Buy whatever you love and makes you feel and look smashing no matter the cost. You will never regret it the way you always do if you settle.

    Hope the extended family manage to mind their ‘Ps and Qs”. Unlike mine on days ending in “Y”.

    And those sharks need a jolly good thrashing.

  • Alexa

    My solution to party frock dilemma (32G here, ass like bouncy castle, stomach like half-fallen souffle) is to never attend any parties, ever, unless compelled by force.

    Also, “no Bond villain worth his horrendously overbred Persian cat” will keep me entertained for DAYS.

  • Katie

    If you can’t go because of the arrival of the shark, you can always schedule a lovely meal at a lovely restaurant to give the dress an outing (Or get your money back).

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