So, the last couple of months have been pretty bloody hectic, haven’t they?
For me, the Olympics coming to London was like telling Tony Blair that his parents-in-law were coming to stay. Forever. It meant that my journey to work would be totally ruined, like a cake in the rain – and people waxed lyrical about leaving 2 – no, 4! – extra hours a day to get to work.
But what was the transport really like?
Well, I’m pretty sure that some people had a right ‘mare for 2 weeks – but my journey was glorious. Trains empty, seat every morning. I was living the kind of life I had always dreamed (I have quite low expectations of life, by the way).
I did cheat a little bit though, because I wasn’t technically here for both weeks. I abandoned my beautiful home in favour of a place which wasn’t dreaming about the discus, or getting hot under the collar about javelins. I booked a holiday, you see. To South West France.
And that was pretty bloody fantastic, too.
But before I went, I did have the familiar holiday-clothes-terror hit me. What would I wear? Anyone who had read my previous posts (hello to the both of you) would know that I had been shopping for this holiday well in advance. But I was going with three blondes who were all below a size 12 – how was I going dress well when I was losing a bucket of sweat every half an hour?
Despite my thin friends, I decided to really go for it, and buy a bikini for the beach. Obviously, having never worn one before, I needed one with a lot of coverage that didn’t make me look like a walrus.
And I found it!
On the first day, actually removing my clothes and just standing there in the skimpiest outfit I’d ever worn in public, was terrifying. But after that I just kept thinking…… if you don’t like it, don’t look. Plus, I actually got a proper tan for the first time in my life, and my friends kept complimenting bikini, bless ’em. I must be paying them too much.
But I kept thinking: Maxi dresses – yay or nay? At 5 foot 4 and a size 18, can I pull one off on holiday?
In the spirit of throwing my logic down the toilet, I found a nice one in H&M which was literally £12.99, and decided to take that. It was dark, patterned…. exactly what a maxi-Virgin would like. And here’s me wearing it!
Please excuse my friends elbow leaning menacingly into me. With regards to the dress, I was the only one wearing one on holiday, and my friends thought it looked really nice. One said it made me look taller rather than shorter, and another said that she always had never wanted to try one, but after seeing me in it, she was going to get one. Obviously, they could have been chatting bollocks – and they probably were – but I liked wearing this dress. So who gives a crap if I was too short for it?!
I also ended up buying that lovely George at Asda dress too. Winner!
I wore it to a barbecue the other day. Here’s another picture of me looking like a smug git.
I don’t know why I look like such a goon. Just look at the dress.
It was a bargain at £20, but for £10 in the sale, I was laughing!
Wow, bit of a long post. Hope you liked my essay. All 612 words of it.