After the ball…its back to Sue and Pete’s to crash out for the day. Well: actually, it is back to Streatham High St, a place i haven’t really walked since a brief interlude living there back in the late ’70’s, for a pannini and a coffee.
I hate the way the world looks after a night without sleep. As though someone turned the brightness down, and everything is just that bit washed out.
My head finally hit a pillow at about 9 in the morning: i woke mid-afternoon, bathed, removed the last of the warpaint and glitter, and gradually felt that bit more civilised.
Sue has loads of clothes she has fallen out with. Different styles, different styles, representing – if i listened correctly – some two decades of life. Odd how we do that.
Before i started to transition, my wardrobe contained trousers (and a couple of shirts) that dated back to the 1980’s. Why? I was going to say i hadn’t a hope of getting back into them: but in fact, my recent slimming antics mean i now weigh in at a number i haven’t been in approximately two decades.
If only i’d been wearing skirts back then!
Anyway. Fascinating to see how someone’s wardrobe evolves. Sue definitely has a sense of style. Sadly, some of her choices – she prefers much thinner pencil skirts, f’rinstance – would not be mine and even sadder: her proportions are just that bit more reasonably feminine.
My 20-top and 14-bottom is definitely going to be a problem. More so if I happen to blossom in the boob department. Many stores seem to be happy to go up to a size 20. Size 22, however, would appear to put me into their outer darkness category.
Despite all, i leave with a few items, and a bag-load to pick up later. I think my only truly outrageous acquisition, this time around, is the leopard print top. I shall wear it. But ironically.
I mean: you can’t take leopard print seriously, can you?
See for yourself: here🙂