Stream of consciousness – ok, Winter, those nice boots, what would they be good with? Right that black skirt, where is it, where is it? Could it be in the bottom of the wardrobe with the good stuff? Surely once you have something five years, it should be demoted, but no there it is. OK, does it fit? Excellent. Jesus, what is that sticky stuff on the waistband, is it something from last Christmas?  Oh God, I bet the children have got their stickly little mitts on it and all the other stuff in my good drawer. My wedding dress is there. Well when am I going to be wearing that again? And the hem of that skirt is coming down. Tum ti tum, where are the safety pins? It’s a feature really, those little twinkling silver thingies around the hem. OK, a top, a top. That navy one with the sparkly bits. Is it a bit low cut? It’s a party, for heaven’s sake. Goodness, that’s a lot of exposed flesh, not a lot of chest though. Where have my breasts gone, why did I give up breast feeding? Let me see, can I root out that ancient wonderbra. Yes, excellent, here it is. OUCH, OUCH. God, the underwire is poking out, goodbye ancient wonderbra. Maybe a nice necklace to perk up the top then? That pearly one that came free with a bottle of mineral water? Yes. But navy and black? No, no. OK, the denim skirt, sort of dress up top half, casual bottom half and at least the denim skirt isn’t sticky. Gosh, that top really is indecent, where’s that silvery cardigan thing? OK, that’s OK.
I emerge and face my husband. “You look very nice” he says obediently. “No, I want you to tell me what you really think”. “What’s my range of options?” “Just tell me what you think”. “Um, is the top a bit dressed up for the bottom?” “Fine”, I say and depart with something like a flounce. The doorbell rings; it’s the babysitter.
Back in the bedroom the torrent of consciousness is reaching a crescendo. OK, not the denim skirt, black trousers. But they don’t go with the navy top. OK, not the navy top, the black top. OK, but now there is actually no flesh visible of any description. Is that good? Hang on, with the black top, I can wear the sticky skirt. Yes, excellent in a sort of deep mourning way.
Roll on the next party.
You slay me! And you look just marvelous.
Hope the atmosphere of deep mourning passed and the party was fun! I usually go through the same process when “dressing-up”.