Day 141 – A dress disaster
Let me begin by reassuring you that despite appearances to the contrary this dress is not a shirt. Though I chose it thinking it would work quite well for a night on the town as well as a day dozing in the garden it turned out to be rather unsuitable for both.
I decided to take today off so I could squeeze in some extra time in Manchester and finally get the chance to catch up with my friend who has been on a show stopping musical theatre tour all over the UK. After having a lovely lie in I sat outside in the garden to have my coffee and it was so nice that I didn’t really move much during the rest of the day. My friend came to join me outside and I got so lost in catching up that I foolishly forgot about the wonder that is sun cream. By the time the boy had returned I was a ridiculous shade of pink which did not at all suit today’s dress and is extremely painful.
As we are going out to a gig tonight I tried to calm it down and undo the damage by applying layers of after-sun. After the tenth layer I started to wonder why it was having no cooling affect in spite of the cucumber coloured bottle. At this point I had a look at the label and realised that what I had in-fact been applying was body glitter which had no healing affects but did make me look like an orange disco ball.
There was no time to take it off so I slipped on some other sparkly stuff in the hope of creating an overall impression of a woman hell bent on matching every accessory, arm make up included. The gig was set to take place at a mansion in South Manchester so I treated my feet to fancy shoes and wincing from the pain of my arms clambered in the taxi with the rest of the band.
I must admit that when I hear the word mansion my first thought is Mr Darcy’s estate at Pemberley. For this reason when we arrived at a rather beautiful but derelict mansion which had soil where I was hoping for grounds I was a little disappointed. It was still however a location for a gig and once I got over the soil which was staining the bottoms of my feet it actually turned out to be okay. There were bands playing sets in their pyjamas, toddlers singing magic penny to a hundred people and if one dared to explore the mansion there was an artists rabbit run inside. There were books on every subject you would ever want to study from the 60s and beyond, a grand piano, an artists easel and rooms where musicians could record, for free.
It was quirky but it was my day off and with my limbs burning, my shoes ruined and my tummy rumbling we went in search of a more structurally sound place to hang out.
- The dress is originally from H&M, the belt from Topshop, the shoes from Kurt Geiger and the jewellery from Pilgrim. This was one of those dresses donated by the lovely Lara. Though it made for difficult descents from the taxi it is a cute little number and on someone shorter may be rather less revealing.
Day 136 – Very vintage
Everyone has to go back to their respective homes today and as we gather round for a fry it feels like the last day of a holiday which has ended far too soon.
When I wake up this morning there are several mysteries which need to be solved. First and foremost:
Why is it that I still have my dress and shoes on?
What happened to the dancing?
Why does the boy have a fairy cake beside his pillow?
The only one question I do have the answer for is why on earth my head feels like it is going to explode; cocktails. 
The boy and I spend a little time trying to figure out answers for the other three which is when I discover my sofa sleeper antics and the fact that I refused to take off my dress because I insisted I would very soon be able to go to the club and therefore getting undressed was a silly option. The reason the boy has a fairy cake beside his pillow may be because he was afraid of someone stealing it. In his defence they are quite yummy.
We are all extremely lazy this morning and as we piece together last nights events over breakfast I am reminded of why I hate Facebook. Tagging. Unfortunately the gang have managed to get some pretty horrific photos of me fast asleep and I look more like Dracula than Sleeping Beauty. Perhaps because my lips are stained red from all the strawberry based cocktails. 
The boy at least finds me cute when I am asleep but he is blinded by love and an unreliable source.
We end up eating out for dinner as well as lunch and I start to worry that my vintage frock will fold under the weight of a fry and a Sunday roast. Luckily though the tailors of yesteryear were rather more skilled in their crafts and the dress withstands the extra weight with no noticeable strain.
We eat out at Enigma (place of the monster munch massacre) and also at a pub called The Stags Head. My mother treats us to the roast as she has been thwarted in her plans to plane it out to her hideaway in Ireland by the ash cloud. Luckily it has not upset the nice weather and once our hangovers subside it is a lovely lazy Sunday which ends all too soon.
For the first time in months the boy is able to stay the evening and not having to say goodbye to him makes for a much nicer end to my birthday celebrations.
- Today’s dress is from Best Vintage in Manchester. The manager there is an absolute sweetheart and gave us the dress along with three others for a reduced rate. I know I am pale but it does seem to suit something this delicate so I do not feel as self conscious about my milk bottle legs as usual. Saying that one of my bestest friends has spray tanned her legs last night and they looked gorgeous. I am seriously considering getting myself some which might make images a little more glamorous in time for the summer months. The label on the dress said it is from the 1950s and the shoes are again from Dune via ebay. The car is my mothers which sadly I am uninsured top drive though it doesn’t stop me wishing.
