Day: I need a fashion stylist. Fact.


[First up, this model makes it look how it should… COOL! I. Am. Not. Cool.]

It happened. That awful moment when you go out for mid-week drinks with friends, one of the few nights away from the little one, to let my hair down and have a few drinky-poos, crack a few jokes and take a few group selfies – this, by the way, was where I realised I am going bald. Apparently a common thing after pregnancy. Now, if I’d have known that! But a photo was taken, that I then threatened could NEVER be used, else my baldness would be exposed to the world.  

Anyway, back to the real issue in hand (not that female baldness isn’t an issue, but one I’d rather ignore right now!)…But, I had nothing to wear. Now that’s an issue!
Seriously, I really meant it when I stood in front of my wardrobe and realised I only have fancy Nancy dresses for special occasions, and I have what I like to call, as named by my Friend, Phoebes, “Apartment Pants”.  It’s one or the other. I’m either “Out-out” or slobbed on the sofa surrounded by food and smothered in crumbs, mmm.

Now I’m going to talk you through my outfit. Don’t laugh. Ok, laugh – because I looked, and I’m happy to admit this – like a f*ckin’ try hard, begging to be cool, yes I can still carry it off… mum.

So first up was the black skinny ripped jeans. Cool you might think, but not when they look like they’ve been squeezed onto a pair of sausages, topped by a muffin, kept together by a button threatening to quit on me.

Then there were the shoes. A pair of black stilettos. Um, do people still wear these out, or are they strictly office wear now!? I took the risk regardless…

And finally, now this is what killed me I think. A black, oversized, rock chick (note I’m now a full blown Hen and no longer a chick), Nirvana tee. What the actual f*ck. NIRVANA!  Who do I think I am!?

It was a beautiful summers evening, and there I was, dressed like I was going to Kurt Kobains funeral. While my lovely peers were looking like fresh, bright, summery daisies in their cool white shirts, or maxi skirts and wedges. And then there was me.

Goth girl.

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