I'm a clumsy person. For instance here's my lunch today, on the wall, and this is at work!
And this super duper stylish lady on the train is not me. Doesn't she look fabulous! I estimated her age to be in the region of mid sixties.
And this super duper stylish lady on the train is not me. Doesn't she look fabulous! I estimated her age to be in the region of mid sixties.
So you can imagine I'm not the best put together person clothing wise, generally. I say generally as I do occasionally have moments when I get it, when I am in the moment; in the zone, when I am at one with my trousers. In those moments I blog it, I instagram it, I Facebook it, I tweet it, I photobomb it. These things don't come to me as naturally as they do for my fashion sensation, my Mr Him, my walking ice cream parlour.
On Sunday, when a mini summer arrived with a hot flush I hit one of those in the zone moments. I became a rural Pimms guzzling fashionista. Those surprised were myself, my dogs and myself (again.) The village populace didn't notice enough to be surprised.
How did it happen? Well the clothing adventure started frumpily casually enough. We decided to enjoy the unseasonal summer and I decided to go without a coat. Being April I wasn't too rash and wore a jumper and scarf plus vest, just in case.
We strolled through woods to our local pub where a Pimms had been calling me from across the valley. In fact it was its idea that we went on the excursion. Sitting in the pub garden, waiting for Mr Him and the Pimms, I felt the 70 degree sunshine beating down on me. It was hot, hot enough for the Raybans to emerge from their hibernation and perch on nearby heads and umbrellas to go
up.
up.
It came to me all of a sudden, I should take off my jumper. I did and found that all and sundry started showing, bra straps being the least of it. The dogs start howling.
I didn't stop there dear reader. Neither did I squirm, pause, stop, ponder, hesitate. Without looking anyone in the eye, ne'er a glance, I tied both ends of my scarf and with a flourish shrugged my arms into the make do sleeves. I had made a Kimono. I was covered, I was elegant. The dogs stopped howling.
Mr Him arrived with my Pimms and some pretzels from South Carolina.
What did Mr Him wear? An anorak.
Mr Him arrived with my Pimms and some pretzels from South Carolina.
What did Mr Him wear? An anorak.
Klutzdom is my middle name.
ReplyDeleteThose between seasons are challenging aren't they? My lazy (and decidedly non stylish) self gets hot, gets cold, gets hot again...
Hot sun and cold wind and shade. Sadly unhelpful when styling I'm sure:)
DeleteNice save! I'm a lost cause I'm afraid, perpetually scruffy.
ReplyDeleteScruffy is a style phenomena I say.
DeleteHey... with a scarf you can do anything.... dress up... dress down.. or in your case... cover up. Quite innovative....
ReplyDeleteI was stunned I managed it:)
DeleteI came over from John Gray's blog to say hi and am glad I did. You have a fun way of telling a story.
ReplyDeleteThank you and I hope you will visit more.
DeleteI agree you do have a way with words.....
ReplyDeleteThank you. I find it relaxing to write.
DeleteI must admit this sudden rise in temperature has made me feel good and want to start wearing summer things and open toes!
ReplyDeleteOpen toes! I haven't gone that far. Id need to remove last years tatty varnish first!
DeleteI'd like to say the well-dressed woman on the train was me, but no.... I'm ..eeer... oh, far too young.
ReplyDeleteIt was during rush hour too. She, you, rather stood out amongst the grey suits.
DeleteOkay...I am loving your blog. I am also wondering if Pimms is as wonderful/classy as it sounds. I also want to live where I see ponies. So I guess I'm coming to live with you. It's fine;I have the appropriate hat.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad I work from home. If I slop something no one sees it. Well, the cats do, but they don't give a monkey's. Funnily enough, I think I have fewer spills now that no one sees me. Must be the pressure.
ReplyDelete