Sunday, 18 August 2013

confessions of a fashion phobic writer...

Okay, this is going to shock some of you, I know it. For about ten years now I've been living in jeans, T-shirts and a variety of sneakers. I can't remember the last time I wore makeup and my hair is always tied up in a messy bun on top of my head - which means I can skip days wrestling with the curls. If Oprah was sitting here right now she's be doing a segment on women who let themselves go! I'd like to clarify that I don't look like a troll. I just don't dress up! (just in case your image of me is a tiny hairy creature who barely changes her clothes...)

With two tiny kids, who have permanent sticky hands, there never seemed any point in making an effort. I'm all about function and comfort. Which was fine, but now I'm off to the New Zealand Romance Writers conference next weekend, and the dress code for the Saturday awards dinner is glam!

So I went shopping for glam. The first thing I did was buy a pair of high heels. And when I say high, I mean stilts high. Why I did this, I have no idea. The shoes called to me. It was as though I was in a trance. I have no recollection of paying for them. One minute I was drooling over them, the next I was home trying them on. Honestly, I wish they'd called to someone else, because I've never worn heels higher than an inch. The new shoes look kind of like these, only mine have a peep toe and no gold lightning bolt.
I put them on as soon as I got home - to practice walking. And a 6.6 earthquake hit our region. I was on stilts and the floor was moving. It took about 30 seconds for me to land on my backside. Now I don't have the courage to try them again. I did however google "how to walk in heels" - you have no idea how many videos there are showing you how to walk. And much to my disgust, I've been doing it wrong all these years. I thought, heel then toe, but when on stilts it's toe then heel. I tried this, just in bare feet, and I look like I a constipated chicken. Might have to rethink the shoes.

Today, I went looking for a dress. I should point out that the last time I wore a dress was twenty years ago. I didn't even wear one when I got married, I wore trousers. (You all think I'm a tomboy slob now, don't you?!) Anyway, I took my two tiny girls on an hour's drive to the next town to go shopping. I tried on every dress in the shop. Some of them more than once. My girls were very well behaved for the first hour, then started chanting "we're so bored" for about twenty minutes. Then they got bored of that too. So they decided to peek under the changing room curtain while I was undressing. The curtain gaped and I flashed my wares to the shop staff and a very embarrassed middle aged couple. I had to wait until they left before I came out of the changing room. I was hoping that if they saw me around the mall, they wouldn't recognise me with my clothes on. 

This is the dress I picked.

That's not me wearing it - sadly.

So now I have makeup I can't use (see the last blog post for that one), shoes I can't walk in, a dress I can't zip up without help and underwear that takes a team to tug on. Oh, forgot about the underwear. A friend of mine told me I needed Spanx, so I dutifully bought some. When I asked the girls at the counter if you bought it in your size, or the size you wanted to be, there was much hilarity. In case you were wondering - you get your own size!

I'll let you know how the big event goes. I may even take a picture of me looking glam! It's funny though, I thought I was just going to Wellington was a fun weekend away. Instead I'm visiting another planet - one without black T-shirts and sneakers. There's a possibility I won't return. Already I've developed an unhealthy attachment to my mascara and every shoe shop I pass whispers my name...


  1. Totally identify with this, Janet! I'm a tee-shirt, fat pants, sneakers gal, and I definitely don't do dresses - the exception being if vows are being spoken/carrying flowers, and that was nearly 18 years ago and I don't intend to repeat the experience.

    I'm sure I'll spot you in your blue dress and stilts, I'll be wearing BLACK (to blend in with the night) and probably wincing if I can't find a glam substitute for the black heels that nearly crippled me last year. :) Let's just hope we don't both fall on our butts...

    1. Ha! Yep, we'll be the ones on wobbly feet, gripping the furniture for support! :) See you there Tracey!