Last night was Evil J’s birthday, she’s a ripe old 22 – but give her a few Vodka Cranberries and a rave whistle and she’s no more mature than ever, just how we like her. I went out in the limited edition FCUK bright pink fashion week dress I bought last week. Marieclaire.co.uk flagged this up the week before, letting readers know that they would be on sale from a week last Monday and when they were gone they were gone. The best thing about this dress – well in other colours it’s £110 - in the 1000 available limited edition pink ones… £25 smackers.. bargain!
I wore that, and then rocked it up with some more studded “fierce” footwear I bought yesterday so that I didn’t look like I was going to a wedding. I’m currently trying to flog the snakeskin shoobs to pay for these ones from Office instead because I can’t afford both!
I’m as flat as a pancake on top though, with a fair bit of back fat – so getting into the dress required husband craftily redistributing fat so the zip would go up, but I still had that little hangey over armpit thing going on which was unfortunate! I figured if I walked around with one hand on my hip all night, that would solve the problem, or I could just get extremely drunk so I didn’t care anymore.
Once at the Warehouse Project I felt good. My shoes were the perfect height for dancing in and attracted some nice comments off a few friends. I did feel slightly overdressed, but I had lost the pink tights that I had planned to wear for this night out (not on their own obviously but with some shorts and a top)– and this was the only other Marie Claire dictated fashion item I could quickly muster together.
But then I saw it. I logged on to tilllate.com this morning and saw the picture. I thought I looked good, I felt good even. Husband was more territorial than normal, just stopping short of peeing up my leg to mark what was his – but the picture tells a different story. Turbo arm and boobless and pale, I think the sunbed shop is calling me!
