The Pain & The Glory

There was once a great Harrods magazine ad for a glorious, vicious pair of D&G shoes with the headline: 'What hurts more? Owning them or not owning them?' Such wisdom and truth!

Here are mine.

I loved these boots when I saw them in a catalogue and rushed to the department store to grab a pair before I missed out. But could I get the zips done up over my generous calves (ie fat legs - I think I've mentioned hail damage and porridge poured into tights before now...) - no, I could not! It's my jeans, I thought, so peeled them off to be standing in the change room in a pair of black knickers and over the knee boots with frills on the top - yes, looking like a (I'd like to say 'high-class'...but god knows...) hooker. Still couldn't get them zipped up. Sensing defeat and a possible weeping, I emerged from the change room. 'How'd you go?" asked the sales chick. Wiping away a tear, I declared I couldn't do them up. 'Try a bigger size,' she suggested.

I did and I managed... in my undies. Not exactly certain how I'd get them on with even a pair of tights - but I was committed!

So, a few days later, I tackled the boots for work. I selected a pair of leggings and a pink tutu.

Does anyone remember as a teenager, lying on their bed and using a coat hanger to do up high waisted jeans that were far too tight? Well never mind the coat hanger but I have discovered lying on the bed and putting my leg in the air forces my fat calf to elongate just enough to get the zips done up. Try it. It really works!

I got to work and my legs were utterly numb but god those boots made a statement! I worded up my nearby colleagues - should I suddenly collapse, call the ambulance and unzip the boots - good chance it'd be deep vein thrombosis!!!!

Do you have any unbearably fabulous items in your wardrobe??

Sliding doors....

Not the crap movie with that stupid concept that we’re all living parallel lives.  We’re not people!! This really is it.

No, the sliding doors I’m referring to are on my car – well, van probably. It has two – one on each side.

A work colleague sternly warned me after the returning from maternity leave for the third time that one more, and I would be looking at vehicle with sliding doors. Amazingly, that didn’t deter me and I went back for another. Although I think even three and being a Cub Leader – sorry, Assistant Cub Leader – is probably justification enough.

I don’t love my van, but I am missing it. The practicality and convenience of sliding doors is a bit like pre-sliced cheese; once you start using it, it’s very hard to go back. It’s been at the panel shop for about 5 weeks. It suffered from hail damage (similar to my thighs…if only I could book those in for repair and claim it on insurance!) and then got rear-ended by Tom outside work. Which, as it turned out, was kinda fortuitous, as the insurance company wouldn’t kick in for a loan car for hail damage alone, it had to be involved in an accident. Thanks Tom!

People do seem to be surprised I drive a van, despite the fact it is black, has dark tinted windows, is European and has leather seats. A guy at work said he thinks it’s hilarious – the way I dress and that I drive a van…hmmmm…I’m still not sure how to take that. Suggestions welcome.

So I’ve just rung that fancy-pants brand’s panel shop again and no, it'll be a few more days yet of struggling like a normal person with doors on a fixed hinge.

PS If anyone is reading any of these ramblings, it’d be great if you could subscribe (via the email is probably easiest – on the right hand side) and or leave a comment. I’m feeling lonely!!!!