Picture this; its Friday night, the night before my birthday dinner with friends who I see all the time. They have seen me sick, with no make up on and in pajamas, yet I am throwing every item of clothing I own around my room like its an Olympic sport. I am genuinely awful at dressing myself and my confidence level goes to zero during the slow excruciating experience. So as you can imagine when my poor boyfriend Stephen trys to give advice and a few encouraging words he is left ducking for cover as a high heel narrowly misses his head while I'm on the verge of tears.
I have perfected the art of having two pairs of tights on at once so there is no time wasting when it comes to matching each with the right dress and shoe together. One is skin colour while the other is normally a black, unless of course I'm having a moment of inspirational 'lets throw in some colour'. Because after all, what did everyone learn from the mistakes of the 80's? From looking at my ensemble, apparently nothing. But even I will admit to looking a little crazy mumbling away to myself while my entire upper body has disappeared under the bed in search of those perfect heels. - Might I just add that the perfect shoes are never there, but you live in hope that someone has stolen all your old things and replaced them with shiny, new, perfectly fitting Christian Dior shoes that haven't even been seen on the runway yet.
Its like those scenes in chick flicks. The crazy haired 20 something running around her bedroom, dancing, trying on silly outfits and then transforming into a vision and been just on time for her date. But with me it stops at the silly outfits. I have yet to master the vision part. Well, I have a vision, but what I see in my mind and what I actually turn out like are two very different things. My latest text to my best friend was ''Swaying in crazy heels and can't breathe in tiny spray on shorts. Will be at home under covers eating ice cream, covered in a face mask crying to big girls are beautiful if you need to find me''. Yes, thats right. I am truly a real-life Bridget Jones, hello people of the earth.
I have since calmed down, restored my room, apologized to Stephen and even found something that might be acceptable to wear for dinner tomorrow night. I haven't fixed my smudged nail varnish yet, but there is always the bus ride to town. I thought a life post would be a nice change from the recent product heavy stuff and also to tell you all I haven't gone anywhere and will be back posting lots again next week! I will have a review of the restaurant no doubt and also a birthday haul for those of you who are nosy as me when it comes to hauls. Til then keep being fab and maybe be a little happier that the crazy panic of getting ready for a night out isn't just something you do.