Like a hippo in a swimming costume.
Today I enjoyed the delights of a day, a whole 5.5 hours of shopping on MY OWN. No children to bother me, clambering round my ankles, smearing snot on pristine new clothes that hang beautifully on their hangers awaiting an eager buyer. I was alone and I couldn’t wait to go and burn a hole in my pocket and max out the credit card. It was definitely an overdue trip seeing as this is the first time I’ve been able to indulge in a such a luxury for over 3 years.
As I dropped the boys off at nursery and hit the motorway in search of the wonder that is the Trafford Centre I started to fill with a little bit of anxiety – I know I am far from body perfect, I have come to accept that, and I know fitting rooms and their evil mirrors do little for those who have waivering confidence issues (including yours truly – they really need to invent a mirror that makes you look slimmer) anyway I’m digressing. So I was starting to feel a little apprehensive about having to squeeze the various lumps and bumps and rolls into new clothes in an attempt to find outfits ideas for upcoming hen do’s and wedding’s, I also needed to replenish some of my jeans seeing as I’ve managed to chub rub my way through at least 3 pairs of trousers in the last month or so – I have to add that these trousers are between 3-5 years old so I think I was due an upgrade in the wardrobe department.
I was glad I wasn’t having to try on bikinis, underwear or anything else that involves wearing very little clothing as I knew immediately I would look like a hippo in a swimsuit,
But I was needing to find some nice items of clothing that were flattering and looked pretty or made me look pretty – come on Trafford Centre the challenge has been set – I needed a fashion makeover.
I had barely walked through the doors before I was lured into H&M and within minutes my arms were loaded with half the shops worth of stock. I’ve not been shopping for a while so I was like a kid in a sweet shop. I have learnt from an early age that I can’t really follow what is on trend as most of the time it doesn’t suit me or wasn’t intended for someone of a fuller figure with boobs – cropped tops MASSIVE NO, anything that requires no bra – NOT A CHANCE!
However I did find lots of lovely staple items to replenish my tired looking wardobe. Being the optimistic person that I try to be I was hoping a size 12 would suffice, I mean I’m back into most of my pre-baby clothes (that’s pre-baby not pre-wedding, that would entail a gruelling regime of not ever eating AGAIN) so I was quietly confident, well that soon changed when the size 12 WITH stretch couldn’t quite make it over my thighs, good job I started with the trousers rather than wiggle into a top and find halfway through that it doesn’t fit yet you are now stuck and either have to do some form of wriggle shuffle to get out of said top – whilst wiggling you suddenly get hotter and sweatier and the clothes suddenly start to shrink and you contemplate ripping your way out of said top as panic sets in. Nope instead I’m stood there with trousers half pulled over my knees feeling like I’m recreating the scene in friends when Ross wears the leather trousers.
It soon became apparent that size 12 would not be my friend in H&M but was a little more forgiving in Zara – obviously better made 😉
After trying on a multitude of items and getting dressed and undressed more than a working girl in Amsterdam I finally came away with three bags fulls of new clothes and my credit card a good couple of hundred pounds heavier (eek not looking forward to paying that bill!)
Along with indulging in some retail torture I also treated myself to a spot of lunch, I shied away from spending the whole time engrossed on my phone instead I put it away and ignored it – after the obligatory Instagram upload of course, and just sat and enjoyed people watching. I haven’t people watched in a long time, forgot what it was like to sit and watch the world go by.
All in all its been a productive day, I know I won’t be getting a opportunity like that again any time soon so it was nice to have the moment to indulge – even if I am now more of a 12/14 than the 10/12 I used to be – guess I will have to make more of an effort running again – dammit forgot to buy new trainers, oh well best gobble the must have Jelly Belly beans that have to be bought each time I visit a Selfridges.