At least my face matched

I’m a bad person. I’ve been cheating majorly on my beloved for the last two days. I cant even believe I’m admitting this to the world.

Uggs; while I’ve cherished all the time we’ve enjoyed together, I am eternally sorry, but I’ve got to move on and experience new shoes.

You’ve been great. Warm. Comfortable. Reliable. Not to mention beautiful too.

The difficulty of course with (not quite) replacing my Uggs (as I will no doubt sheepishly return to them as the cold weather annoyingly continues) is what I will wear instead? Wellington boots? No, its not monsoon season. High heels? Far too much effort for ones liking, particularly for casual attire. Trainers? I wish, but I would be branded a social outcast…

So two days ago, I went shopping.

I browsed.

I tried on.

I debated.

And then, I purchased.

The problem with the new shoes is that they don’t cover my feet. Where I could just slip into my Uggs with any old socks on, I feel as thought I now must make more of an effort.

Thus, I have now started using special body lotion. What makes it special I anticipate you asking? It allows me to ‘achieve a healthy, sun-kissed look without the worry of sun damage’. Yasss, ya beauty! What more could you want? Well, it would be nice if it was instant… “apply daily to gradually build a light tan”. Oh great. A few days of my feet looking nearly see-through? Nuh-huuu. Don’t think so. Desperate times…desperate measures…

“Hello, Bronzing Powder? Is that you?”

“Yes Feet, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, its lovely to finally be introduced”

“Indeed Bronzing Powder, enchanté”

Extreme.com? Probably. It would have been nice too if I had managed to apply evenly over both feet.

Oh well.

At least my face matched.

I guess I had the last laugh

Why is it that when the time comes to leave the house – to go out, pop down to the shops or even call round to a friends – I must first look like a social outcast? I look seriously uncool when I run errands these days.

I don’t know who or what to blame either. Obviously the weather is the biggest factor for over-layering myself with three jumpers and a gilet, turning me into an absolute frump. Temperatures are currently averaging -16 degrees outside. Ok, that’s a lie, but it feels like it. The cold, combined with wind and rain does not give a girl any chance of looking good. Your hair swirls around your face like you are impersonating Cousin It; your mascara runs down your face like theres no tomorrow; and no amount of ‘cool’ can make you look ‘cool’.

It’s upsetting.

Or is it the layers one wears? Magazines always promote how ‘in’ they are and show off celebrities sporting cardigans, jumpers, jackets and winter accessories galore. Oh how I wish I could look as lush as them.

Perhaps I should blame my father. He has always encouraged practicality over fashionability, leading to the purchase of some socially unacceptable outerwear. As much as I love my grey gilet, every time I wear it I feel like I shouldn’t be able to walk through doors – its rather padded. However it keeps me warn and tremendously cosy. I shouldn’t complain.

It gets worse…and I ought not to admit this…

I’ve taken to wearing my red ski jacket. Yes, I typed that correctly. But it only gets invited for an outing in extreme circumstances.

Ok, it makes me look like I’ve never heard of the words ‘fashion’ and ‘style’ due to its excessive amount of pockets and padding, but its probably the reason I’m alive today – well not quite, but its kept me extremely warm every time I’ve worn it.

I even wore it on Hogmanay, although, and I hope it never reads this, I only did that because I had a 2 mile walk to my friends bar which I had to endure on a particularly bitter night. My good friend, who was not on the ski trip I bought my jacket for four years ago, almost wet himself for seeing me in this, but that might also have been due to the alcohol and long toilet queue. Don’t worry though, I rather enjoyed watching him attempt to smoke later on with frost bitten fingers and blue lips.

If only he had a red ski jacket.

I guess I had the last laugh.

I was merely making conversation

Today I asked my father what he thought of my outfit.

“Yeah, its fine. A little dressy for the house. No?”

No, certainly not father.

I put his opinion down to the beads. Oh, how I love the beads. The beads make the outfit.

I’m wearing a present from my parents. Clearly, mother dearest did not consult father on this purchase. It’s a black cardigan with orange, blue, green and gold beading around the neckline. It’s fabulous darling.

What was it Anna Wintour said in The September Issue?

“I often see that people are frightened of fashion and that because it scares them or because it makes them feel insecure, they put it down. There is something about fashion that can make people very nervous.”

Perhaps my father was scared of the beads. He leaves the house wearing a hat so ghastly that he looks like a 15^th century Pagan. So his opinion doesn’t really count. I was merely making conversation.