Should it really be this hard? I ordered this dress:
Really I would have preferred navy but they only had red. I actually measured myself and sulkily ordered up a size. I bought shoes and a shrug, I agonised over nail polish options. I was good to go.
I tried it on this morning. It was not nice – not nice material, not a good red for me and too flaming big! Whilst the too big thing is good, it’s frustrating that I went to the effort to get the tape measure out and it STILL doesn’t fit. The last dress I ordered, I measured myself and it was too small. I guess that’s worse.
I’m taking this afternoon off to try again but I’m running out of shops to interrogate. And I have very painful shoes on. But a pair of shoes and a shrug does not an outfit make. Unless you’re a coquettish burlesque dancer which, alas, I am not.
AND I now have a mound of things to take back – always a horrible chore.
I probably won’t be able to post now until next Wednesday. That will be 2 WIs in between – one pre-weekend away and one literally the next day upon return to the Smoke. Eeek. I’m planning on being very restrained but I know that the merest hint of something other than protein or veg seems to send my weight rocketing. It is not a joyful prospect.
Still, the sun is shining, my hair is freshly washed (having had keratin in it for 4 days until I was so skanky I was concerned lest I be offered 50p to get a cup of tea) and Devon (suitably clad or otherwise) beckons with my lovely P by my side. I refuse to turn this into an ordeal. Even though I’m so pre-menstrual that I cried at a complete stranger’s wedding video online. Twice.