Coated

The bon marche order came - yay!!! And one of the things that was included in the order was coat. I got so cold and wet last week with only a short fleece jacket, that I decided that I needed something else. And the coat was in the bag and I fell in love with the colour and I tried it on.

Oops.

It wasn't just that it was a bit snug. Part of the problem was, as little bear put it, I'm too fat and part was I was wearing a very chunky sweater. The big problem was that the zip got stuck. I struggled and wriggled and jiggled and wished darling father hadn't gone out. Little bear was not supportive. He watched dispassionately as I was as contortionist as my shoulders would allow and commented that I needed to do more exercise.

I kept my temper.

So I am sitting here, in the coat (which is lovely and snug) waiting for darling father to come home so that I can be cut out of the dratted garment, which I hope I will then be able to send back. The lady I rang seemed lovely, and is actually local. I have no problems with Bon Marche. But if I am not cut out of the dratted thing I think I will have to be buried in it.

Re clothes

Lesley - for all his faults, OH has never had the nerve to buy me clothes. At least not now. He did try at the start to influence (strongly) what I wore, but I think it was just too much hassle for him. Also I hardly ever buy clothes.

Though there was a wonderful moment when I hadn't bought more than stockings for about three years, and OH upset me. A lot. So I went out and (with my own money) bought £300 worth of clothes (and this is nearly twenty years ago) and none of the items were more than £15, and some a lot less. If you could have seen his stunned expression as item after item got displayed it would warm your cockles. The living room was draped in garments. I think it was then that he abandoned the clothing thing.

I have no fashion sense. My first question about clothing is usually 'is it comfy, and does it cover strategic areas'. I am dreading looking 'out of place' at the school gates, but I can live with the reputation of 'eccentric'. I have been known to buy some stuff out of catalogues because then I know it is vaguely in fashion.

One of the things that I was looking at was smart stuff. OH's work's do is the one time in the year that I go out normally, and I have worn the same outfit for several years, and it was also trotted out at OH's sister's 50th (red carpet theme, was unimpressed) and little bear's christening. It isn't really 'me', the colour just isn't quite right, and I have been wearing it with the same top as all my other tops don't go. So, without any sense of fashion, I am looking for something inexpensive, in basic black (because that goes with everything), vaguely dressy but not frilly, that will do for at least five years for Christmas do's and anything mildly fancy to do with little bear.

I do feel confident in my sense of style, however, which is something.

Darling father could never cope with even a bit of glitter or striped nail polish (quite something in the eighties) but my late mother, for all her faults, took the view that if I had the nerve to walk out of the door looking like that then all power to me. I hope I can take the same stance with little bear.

And yes, my hair was all colours, and in fact I rang the changes right up until little bear was born. I had my hair coloured every six weeks and as a matter of principle never had the same colour twice running, although by this time I was in a more responsible position so had to go for shades of blonde and auburn instead of blue, green and silver - I loved spray on silver!

Clothes

A clothing catalogue came today. I practically never buy clothes, and when I do I usually go for durability. However this catalogue is for clothes for the larger lady, the fuller figure etc and it is the only place to get the bras I like. I reluctantly got the catalogue to have access to the underwear.

I started leafing through it casually, noting that this looks nice, that's a nice colour, that's HOW MUCH! etc when darling father started looking over my shoulder and making suggestions.

I have a problematic figure. First of all I am grossly over weight, so I am not going to look like Kate Moss no matter what I wear. Then there is the problem of my bust. It is large, full and embarrassing. Other ladies with different temperaments could well enjoy it. I don't, and go for high necked outfits for a reason. So with a low and hefty bust and a high waist, it is separates only for me.

Then I have quite well defined tastes. I like plain and not patterned, long smooth lines (hides a multitude of sins) and despite my age I am keen on the slightly punk side of fashion. I don't wear punk or goth, obviously, I would look ridiculous. But I don't do pink.

Darling father has views as well. Nice, brightly patterned dresses with lots of flounces and low necks. Lots of frills. Lots and lots of patterns, and wide skirts, with bright and contrasting patterns. With extra frills. Basically, darling father's fashion sense has stuck in 1950. He wasn't that old then, but that is where it is stuck. He thinks that tartan is cutting edge. He pointed out some 'nice' clothes. They are actually nice, just something I have never, ever worn. He has known me for over forty years, he saw me in New Romantic get ups and some seriously extreme make up. I do not do flouncy skirts with big pink flowers.

He meant well. And he won't really grumble (at least to me) when I stick to the 'basic black, no frills, smooth lined trouser suit' type stuff.

One thing that worried me slightly. He said that the local ladies all wore long dresses. The local ladies at the Methodist Church whose average age is double mine wear long dresses. My contemporaries wear leggings, crop tops and quite often pyjamas to the shops. Please let darling father not see anything on sale that he thinks I would like, please!