My Coat

My coat makes me look like I am in the SS. Which is not really the look I was going for and was particularly bad taste around Tuesday but I persevered and tried to lighten the look up with my hat that was once mistaken for a dishcloth. I have a problem with hats in general. I have an enormously large head (physically, not in a vain way – it’s not being vain if it’s true) and so to find a hat that doesn’t make me look like one of the Mr Men wearing a hat is quite an achievement. My head is so big it has a kind of shelf at the back so my head overhangs. Pretty hey?

But anyway I’ve been wearing my coat even though I don’t like it as it is so insanely cold and it is look like a member of the SS or freeze. I have this issue with quite a lot of my clothes. I refuse to buy new stuff until I find something I really, really like at a price I am willing to pay. Therefore I walk around in clothes that are far past there best in order to satisfy some weird desire.

I also have very bad taste. And buy clothes that make me laugh. I am writing this wearing what can only be described as a party dress. I quite often get halfway somewhere and realise I am dressed like a lunatic. Sadly it is often too late to change. I’ve lost some weight recently (I intend to sell the “eat less, move around more” diet to Closer magazine) and so have been able to get in to clothes that I haven’t been able to get in to for a while. About 8 years. As I was going through them I happened on a pair of jeans that I wore when I was a size 8. Given the unlikely event that I get to that size again (taking in to the account the massive head I looked simultaneously like Bunyip and like I was about to die) would I really want to wear a pair of stone washed, high waisted, straight leg jeans that cost me about a fiver ten years ago? The answer is no. And as the answer is no why the hell have I moved them 5 times and carefully keep them in a suitcase under my bed? In the same suitcase is a pair of jeans I wore once and an ex told me I looked like a transformer, a bridesmaid dress and a pair of dungarees I must have bought during a Mrs Brick the Builder stage.

Bad taste hasn’t just occurred recently though. As a child my mother was rather overwhelmed by having a girl after 2 boys and so dedicatedly smocked all my clothes. I still worry that if I sit still long enough she’ll smock my jeans. I came across some pictures recently of us putting up the Christmas decorations when I was about 10 and I appear to be dressed as one of EMF. I’m wearing dungarees (with one strap undone naturally) and a psychedelic hooded top with my hair in bunches. I remember getting the top on the market and LOVING it. Whether I caught my mum on a bad day or she wanted one of the Shamen as her daughter I don’t know but it certainly does make me stand out.

My problem is that I get a very specific picture of the clothes I would like in my mind and when I find that shops haven’t recreated this dream for me I get disappointed and don’t buy anything and am forced to wear horrible old clothes.