A Stingy TVshopaholic enters 'The Hive'

On Friday I braved a ladies pamper evening at the local English village primary school.  I live in an area with a duck pond and where the mothers wrap themselves in  their angora and six by sixes (forget four by fours, these women mean real business)  to do the school run.  Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for dressing up, lunching and adorning myself in designer gear, as any TVshopaholic would do,  but I find spending half an hour to select an outfit to put out the wheelie bin is not an efficient use of my time. However, each to her own. 

I pulled on my new, indigo, knee high,  sheepskin boots, swished a comforting Renee scarf around my neck and put a pearl necklace in my Kipling bag in case I needed to bring out the reinforcements. I was going for the understated, hoping to pull off  'I don't need to try, I've got a scarf with red telephone boxes' look.  

The clarion calls of 'darling' and bubbly laughter lured me down  the alleyway and I walked the  long walk of perfume and inferiority (the perfume was from others, the scent of inferiority from me.)  They may have their 6 by 6's but I had my Renee scarf, I told myself. These ladies had adopted swarm thinking in their 6 by 6 comfort zones and I may only have a scarf but it had red Telephone boxes.  I was individual, my inferiority  smothered by fabric.  I raised my head, swished The scarf, entered the hive and graciously accepted the glass of bubbly.

The halls or hive cells, were laid out with stalls. I weaved through a few times to gain my confidence, keeping my eye out for the inevitable queen bee.  I ignored signs to 'massage', facial,  reiki this way. I wasn't going to lay on a table and have my vulnerabilities exposed, here.  Anyway, I exfoliated so didn't need all of that! 

I walked in the other direction and stopped at a stall. The holder was smiling , beckoning. We chatted and she told me how she had started to make jewellery recently as a hobby.   

My attention was drawn to little packs of  earrings like minature buttons.  I thought they were cute and bought two pairs for my girls for Christmas.

Another stall displayed teacups filled with candlewax.  These cups and saucers were of the era of the 70's or earlier.  This set I recognised from my grandparents house when I was a child.  My grandmother served tea in hers not candles.

Another stall had 'vintage' plastic stones in jewellery.  Apparently they were 'vintage' as the plastic stones dated from the 1950's but had not actually been used in jewellery so were effectively new but at the same time genuine Art Deco stock.

A bar was located in the centre of the hive.  Prices were £3 for a glass of wine and 50p for a chocolate truffle.  I contemplated running across the road to my home, having a quick Sav Blanc and a bite of my home made fudge and returning.

I only purchased the little earrings and at £3 a pair. I had caressed a string of freshwater blue pearls. I also pondered statement jewellery but at £50 decided it was not as good value as zero cost per wear from my favourite channel.    An evening bag had caught my eye but that was £83 and it wasn't even Lulu G.   

I was a stingy tvshopaholic today. 

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