As my mate is slowly dropping a phenomenal amount of pounds by slamming on the treadmill every day like a superstah, and my mother sheds weight like water off a duck's back, I have stalled in my downward progress.
The illness crashed me out, the I wrenched my back, and then I had a killer period and am only now beginning to feel human again. Add to that my eating for comfort and I've been going the wrong way on the scale.
So I don't fit into the purple dress and am going to have to go get a last-minute emergency dress and I've been generally feeling crappy, ugly and unlovable.
However, I am determined that if we're attending the wedding of the fashion editor of the London Telegraph we will all look put together. Not necessarily fashion saavy, because we aren't, but the frump has got to go. Wallace has a new wardrobe primarily from H&M, I have sexy jeans and several dresses, as well as new boots to wear, and last night TT slid his hot new bod into a Calvin Klein suit that rocks.
Yesterday I also updated my makeup. Enough of this scrounging at the grocery store, I say! It's time to spend a little cash and get a few quality items! I procured some fancy makeup from the Nars counter at Nordstroms and within seconds of leaving the counter was hit on mercilessly.
On the escallator up a 30ish good looking guy is in front of me. He stares. I wonder what the hell he's staring about.
Guy: Do you know what floor this is?
Me: Um, third.
Guy: Okay. *pauses* See, I'm looking for something really specific.
Me: **
Guy: A pair of sheer pajama bottoms.
Me *wondering what the hell is wrong with this guy*: I don't work here.
Guy *embarassed*: I know you don't work here. I was just getting, you know, personal.
Me: Less personal would be better.
And that, my friends, is the power of makeup.
1 comment:
Oh sweet. That line is right out of some cheesy novel.... I'm thinking even with some makeup I'd never get a line like that!
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