Unless you’re reading this post on a Monday, in which case my heart goes out to you (and me) 😕
In fact, I wish this last week had been half as positive as today has been. But it would seem that my clothes are trying to kill me. Maybe they are rebelling. Maybe, after being shoved into boxes, piled in a heap on a boat and then stuffed into a tiny wardrobe, they have decided to fight back. And in such interesting and unique ways. For instance:
- On Saturday a thread of a hand-knitted jumper that I have owned FOREVER decided to loop itself around a hook in the bathroom. I had created the giant equivalent of a cat’s cradle around two rooms of the house before I noticed. This caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and a bit of laughter. Well it’s not every day you create modern art in your own living room. I’m a bit sad now that I didn’t ‘story it on Instagram’.
- On Sunday a necklace, which had decided to tangle itself into an intricate web of painfulness with my hair, snapped. But not before making damn sure that I would take the next half an hour (no exaggeration) detangling the wire, that had held the literally hundreds of beads, from my locks. I am STILL finding tiny beads in the most bizarre of places. The fridge for instance 😳
- On Monday the scarf I was wearing managed to get slammed inside a car door. Now if I had been inside the car at the time this would have been a minor inconvenience. However, I was attempting to extricate myself safely and swiftly onto a fairly busy road so that my driver (aka Mr Chic) could drive off and find a parking space. What followed was a few second of sheer panic as the car drove off taking me with it. Death by scarf is not really the way I want to go!
- On Wednesday (my clothes decided to give me a day off on Tuesday. Probably to lull me into a false sense of security) I zipped my own neck into my jacket. Yep, I actually managed to squeeze the teeniest amount of flesh between its unforgiving teeth. And I’m not sure what hurt the most, the initial zip up, or the eye-wateringly painful zip down.
- On Thursday I tried on a new top which, it has to be said, was a tad too small. It was one of those tops with about a million different straps – the kind which demands you have a degree in dressing yourself before attempting to put it on. Being degree-less I failed – miserably. I found myself firmly and inextricably stuck. It took Mr Chic a good ten minutes to release me – because I had forced my head into the sleeve! The sleeve I tell you!
As for today, so far so good. Although I ditched the high heels I was going to wear to a meeting in favour of flats. And as for my metal spike encrusted bracelet – yeah, that’s best kept for another week.
Catch you in the next post, as long I can outwit my clothing.