It all started with a red lipstick.
For the last 5 or 6 months I have been going through a bit of an identity crisis. A friendship that had meant a lot to me ended and I won't go into the details but there was no resolution, half a nonsensical explanation that did not satisfy, it was not by mutual consent and I was constantly reminded about what I had lost. I miss her horribly and can't see that changing any time soon.
When any relationship ends 2 important things are required for one to get closure and move on.
1) A respectful distance
2) Resolution and acceptance
2) Resolution and acceptance
If you don't understand why the relationship is over and you are constantly faced with that person (in this case via Facebook and my old blog site) then it's painful, stressful and often humiliating. Then there's the vomiting (Thank you Carrie)
I lost my way a little. Instead of being my usual happy-go-lucky bouncy rainbowtastic self I was hurt, stressed, run down, eventually contracted pneumonia after repeated illness and would have been happy to just give in and sleep indefinitely.
This week I was inspired to snap out of it when I was out picking up a birthday gift for a friend and caught my less than attractive reflection in a shop window.
I was wearing flat shoes, opaque tights, a baggy grey wool jumper dress with a cowl neck, no makeup and had unbrushed hair with an inch of undyed roots.
Ordinarily I would have my head in the clouds due to soaring skyscraper heels, accessories, eye makeup and clean shiny blonde hair.
And this dress is supposed to be worn with a belt under the bust to give it a waist. It looks like a potato sack without one!
I'd gained weight and lost muscle tone due to the best part of 6 weeks bed rest and I already mentioned this week that my face has aged too. I just looked like one of those sad women who've given up on what they look like and turned to the comfort of the fridge.
I dug around my purse for the giftcards I was given on my birthday and deliberated whether to use them for good or evil. I had intended to use them for birthday presents for my friends and family over the next few months because with chronic home repairs to pay for and a credit card to pay off I knew I'd need some emergency sources of money.
This was an emergency though - I looked like hammered shit. Resolute, I headed straight for Boots for inspiration, packing Advantage Card Points with an itchy trigger finger and a determined grimace.
1 minute later I was armed with Diva Red lipstick, hair dye, hairspray and popping next door to M Butterfly, I picked up a glittery red crystal bracelet for £3.
Next, the dress; a trip to Debenhams with my £40 Debenhams voucher reawakened the shopping addiction that I had buried successfully with abject poverty for the last few years. That's going to hurt on payday when I'm being hauled kicking and screaming out of Zara by The Boy.
I stuck with floaty over foxy because my Bed Rest Induced Podge® in combination with Evil Hormonal Bloating® was about cause suicide in the dressing room. Note to self - do not wear flesh tones or pink when you are packing extra curves. You will only resemble a marshmallow.
This evening The Boy and I are going out to celebrate the new job and new nose of one of his ex-colleagues.
I am going to bomb home from work, dye my hair whilst painting my nails "fuck you, I'm fabulous" red (thank you hormones for making them grow. Much appreciated) and then attempt to put my hair into some sort of style without exposing my Dowager's hump or asphyxiating myself with hairspray.
I've spent 27 years refusing to put products in my hair. Wibble. Mermaids have one style and one style only "long". Back off with your backcombing and wax - I aint no Geisha.
Methinks that tipping my head upside down and drying it isn't going to cut it. Perhaps I have some hairclips somewhere. Hellllllllp.
Ziggy played guitarrrrrraaaaarrrrraaaarrrrrr.
Title: Let's Dance by David Bowie