Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Hooray for summer!

Yes, today was sunny, glorious, balmy - even warm - until about four o'clock. Enter the overcast. I find it hard to get stuff done in winter. I get up, it's cold. I shuffle about, it's cold. I shiver into multiple layers.... you get the picture. I know it's Australia and our winters are comparatively mild, but guess what? That just means we're really crap at heating space properly.

But today? I wore a skirt. As in, not jeans. I even accessorised. With a belt. I know, daring for a weekday and all. And I got stuff done. Washing, vacuuming, dishwashing, bench-wiping. People, I even scrubbed my shower. That's serious. I mean, that's where I just shrug and go "Whatever. Two people take showers in that space EVERY DAY. Of COURSE it's clean. I mean, I realise that mould enjoys warm damp environments just as much as the next parasitic life form, but it's a SHOWER. It's GOT to be clean."

Not today. Uh-uh. I cleaned that base and scrubbed that glass and even - EVEN - paid some attention to the grout. I know. And once again, since my status update of "Chelsea will never apologise for wanting bacon with mud cake." incited accusations of pregnancy, NO, I am not pregnant. I am merely stuffing my face with weird (and wonderful) combinations of food:

(a) out of boredom; the pug may be entertaining but isn't a great conversationalist, and paws are shite for card-playing, 

(b) out of anxiety and the panic attacks induced by a certain silvery-pale pink gumblossom leotard that in three weeks will accentuate every lump and bump on my torso until I resemble a small spray-painted whale, and

(c) I REALLY like mud cake. And bacon. And when you can have TWO things you really like instead of one, why stop at one. (Hence the DOUBLE-shot latte. Oh no, I was just feeling dopey and in need of a wake-up call.)

So anyway, today I wore a skirt. It's photo-worthy, but I put my camera in a drawer and then shoved a large and heavy dining table in front of it this afternoon which clearing space for group lesson, so no photo. Think royal-blue and silk. And long. So much more glamorous than harem pants (WHO thought that was clever? Hands up so we can cut them off for stupidity) but just as floaty-bohemian-lala and comfortable. I think this skirt may be threadbare by the end of summer. 

When you give in to the allure of harem pants, just remember the shape of your fleecy tracksuit pants WITH A CUFF that you thought were so fantastic when you were twelve or seven or thirty-two. Then put them back and walk away. Quickly. No-one looks good in harem pants unless simultaneously prepubescent and six feet tall... and then we nod and smile knowingly... "So exotic. So daring. Look at that stunning silhouette." Yes. LOOK. Don't WEAR. I have to stop now before I start listing all the clothes I really hate. What do you wish you'd never worn?


Dan. said...

At the moment we are heading into winter, and I have to say, I am freezing my nipples off already. But I still love winter.

One thing I wished I never wore? There was a craze in the early 90's when I was about 11 for wearing dungarees with Bart Simpson and Fred Flintstone patches on them.

I never, ever get my family photos out for anyone.

jonathan said...

a set of lederhosen when I was 10, they were so stiff that I could feel and heard them crack as I attempted to move forward 1 step at a time.
sound of music eat your heart out and by the way.....shhhhhhhhhh its a secret of mine!

Anonymous said...

The outfit I wore yesterday. It made me look about as shapely as a tree trunk, and horribly middle aged! (and it was a boab tree, at that!)

omchelsea said...

Dan: Oh, the days of patched dungarees being trendy... What? You haven't burnt the photos already?

jp: THAT is hilarious. I promise to never mention it in public lest you die of embarrassment.

Linda: You crazy, crazy woman. Throw it on the floor, stomp on it, and find something else. You are NOT a boab (or any other type of) tree.

Anonymous said...

I am sitting here at 10.35pm and I'm sweating my arse off. It must be 30 in this damn dining room. Let the moist times roll....!

I wish I had never worn jeans with the bottoms rolled up. Some people can make it look acceptable; I'm not one of them.