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.