Categories: uncategorized
Date: 31 December 2006 21:31:08
Now I have to bite the bullet here and own up to something rather shameful. Over the last couple of years while I've been looking after Dad, I've sort of.. er... expanded. In particular in the,... umm... balcony area! With the result that none of my nice clothes actually fit me properly any more and I look decidedly dumpy and round and dishevelled whatever I wear - think Daisy off "Keeping Up Appearances"! And while Dad loved me whatever I wore, I think he would have something to say if I turned up to his funeral in my jeans or, the other comfortable option, my pyjamas! So a bit of retail therapy became more than slightly essential.
You'd have thought it a simple matter, looking for a suit that was comfortable, not too unflattering, and not too funereal but suitable to wear for preaching or other smart occasions. Was it? It was not. We looked everywhere. I was somewhat mortified to discover that not only was I no longer a size 16, but actually needed something that was a generous 20 on top, though still managing 16s and 18s round the waist. A challenge indeed. There was little that appealed at all, except just plain black which I didn't want, and those that did catch my eye didn't have my size at all. I was, by the afternoon, well and truly depressed.
The afternoon's mission was to get the flowers for Friday. We had decided to go to the little florists in Cowes as that is where the funeral director is located. We parked up at the end of town and decided to walk through. You can imagine our distress when we finally got there and discovered it wasn't. Wasn't a florist. Not there, anyway. No florist anywhere to be found, apart from a "flowers and novelties" shop that was closed anyway. Typical.
but
what there was
was
Artigiano! Now, I had absolutely no hope of finding anything within my price range there - not a chance. Designer stuff from Italy, starting at £200 for a handkerchief. (Ok, slight exaggeration, but you get my drift). But we're so fed up about the flowers that we go in and look at their samples rack. There are no sizes on the jackets, the assistant suggests we try them on and hands me an unimpressive looking black jacket. I don't want black! But I try it on anyway, and look in the mirror. Honestly - it took my breath away. It was absolutely gorgeous. I could hardly bear to take it off - I was transformed. The price tag took my breath away too, I hasten to add, but it was the most remarkable bargain even at £60 as the general sale price was about three times as much, and I know I shall definitely get £60-worth of wear out of it.
From Cowes we returned to Newport, Artigiano carrier bag in hand. The little florist in the town centre would be another good place to try to order the flowers. We park at the end of town and walk through. En route we pass Edinburgh Woollen Mill. And what do you know? Half an hour later we emerge with a gorgeous pair of grey trousers for a tenner and a beautiful white blouse with tiny dark purple flowers half price in the sale. An outfit that makes me feel so good, more than anything I've worn in ages. With a trip to the hairdressers (first in a year!) to polish the top layer, I should look fairly presentable on Friday... and Smudgelet was overwhelmed when he saw me and just kept saying "You look so so beautiful, Mummy". (I like that boy!)
Needless to say, the florist in Newport town centre isn't. It's closed down. It's a pie shop.