Finally after trying on an exhausting amount of clothes with colour, I finally ended up with items of beige and white and one gorgeous long purple skirt. A tiny modicum of success. I even tried on this amazing looking yellow and black striped maxi dress at YDE, but to my horror the voluminous and sexy shape had been created by a weird tail sewn on the back. It had to be the most ridiculous item of clothing I have ever encountered! I stood for a good couple of minutes holding my tail, looking in the mirror and wondered if the world had gone mad. Anyway colourful clothes are the very least of my troubles!
I am going to be in a state of mourning for the next four days! I know I am being silly, I know I am being dramatic – but hell I will get onto the cheerful balloon of denial and or acceptance once Elvis leaves the building. By Elvis I am of course referring to my twenties!
My rocking roaring, exciting, devastating, tragic and happy twenties. I am saying goodbye to the girl and begrudging saying an unenthusiastic hello to the women.
I will lament, I will be shamelessly bitchy, selfish and irrational. This is a space which allows me to be honest and the truth is I am not happy about turning thirty! I am horrified. Sure it is in the attitude, sure I am my own worst enemy. But flippin hell, I will be over the hill soon, the wrong side of the hill. It all goes downhill. I know it isn’t the same for everyone, from what I have seen and heard some people embrace their thirties like it’s a new pair of jeans, most women look more beautiful and happier and that’s cool– but I cannot go down gracefully – it just isn’t in me!
The man thinks it is hilarious, he of course crossed the hill some time ago and has made peace with it all. The devil in me has him directly in the firing line, the part he has played in my tragic fear of becoming old can never be underestimated! Last night I almost threw a steaming hot pie at him!
Well I must go get a facial – pampering has suddenly taken a more serious role of preservation!