Outfit Tantrums

Tomorrow, I am going to Cheltenham races. I’ve never been before, I’ve been to other races so I thought I knew what I was doing.

Two weeks ago, I was casually perusing the internet, it came to my attention that Cheltenham attire is, in fact, very different to the likes of Ascot. The main thing being, its pretty casual. Not tracksuit casual, but Cheltenham races casual. Confused? Yes I was too.

The dresses I have are either not really suitable for the chilly March weather or they are a bit too dressy.

I scoured online for examples of what to wear. Aha! I see an outfit I like, its an A line skirt, top and knee high boots with a coat. Looks gorgeous. I can easily recreate this.

I do some online shopping and manage to find the perfect skirt, I add it to my basket, along with a few different types tops and I already have a couple of pairs of black knee high boots. Sorted. That was pretty painless.

The parcel arrives. I put it on the sofa and pretend its not there. I can never bring myself to try things on straight away,  I like to torture myself out about there being the wrong items or the wrong sizes, rather than just open it and try things on.  I realise now that this is the avoider in me, its not just emotions and awkward situations, I will avoid. Oh no, its parcels as well.

Once I have summoned up the mental strength, the parcel is moved into the bedroom, I go and do some random chores for a little extra avoidance and then eventually, I tentatively open the much dreaded parcel.

I pull out the skirt and hold it up, its lovely.  I put it on along with one of the tops. The A line skirt, looks more like a very wide I line, its like a second skin. I get the picture of the woman up on my phone and look in the mirror. I look nothing like her. Not only is she blonde, she is about a size 8 and well, I am not.

I want to cry, but I don’t. I go back to the internet and order some more outfits, widening my selection, chucking a few things in that I might not usually try. You never know. There must about 20 outfits in my online basket by the time I submit the order.

The (huge) parcel arrives. On the sofa it goes, taking up practically the whole space. This one is going to need extra mental strength, it may have to stay on the sofa for a few days.

When the time comes, I rip open the bag and tip the contents on my bed. I can’t even remember what I have ordered.

My bed is covered with an array of tops, skirts and dresses. I must have been really desperate at one point as I ordered a bodysuit, which I absolutely do not have the shape for whatsoever.

I desperately try each outfit on, feeling more and more deflated as I notice my “To try on” pile getting smaller and smaller, my “keep” pile is non existent. I don’t even bother with the bloody bodysuit.

The bestie and I decide to go shopping to the actual shops. I go more to have a catch catch up, I don’t really like shopping and I feel like I have looked at every single item they could possibly have anyway. I go back to the shop to return the last huge parcel, smiling sheepishly at the poor sales assistant who is probably wishing she was doing a stocktake rather than scanning my 5000 items back into the system.

The bestie buys a couple of things but as I suspected, I don’t see anything new. When we are almost done, I see a red tweed blazer in Zara I quite like, I do like a bit of red, but I’m not sure if this is what I had in mind. She tells me to try it on, it would look nice with a simple black dress. I try it on like a huffy teenager, I can’t be bothered to get in the queue, I just want to wallow in my self pity please.

I go home and start debating whether to go in fancy dress, it would be easier! I decide to have one more look on some of the online shops. I make another order, conscious that I am running out of time. This time I order some wrap dresses, they are more flattering.

The parcel arrives the following day. I throw it on the sofa. maybe if I try it on tomorrow I will have lost a stone? I have resigned myself to the fact that these will also be returned so I take the parcel upstairs, walking as though I’m heading for my own execution.

I start trying things on “No” fold back up, put it back into the bag. I am actually talking to myself at this point, as if to say to myself “I told you so, this is very much a pointless exercise, you should have just handed the parcel straight back to the yodel man” after the 3rd dress, I get to one that looks ok. I double check in the mirror to make sure I am not hallucinating, nope it actually looks alright. I stick it on a hanger and put it in the wardrobe, I need to let the other dresses know that well behaved dresses are rewarded and hung up in like proper attire, instead of being shoved back into the bag they came from. The next dress also is passable, I think I prefer the one before but it too shall be given a place in my newly decluttered wardrobe.

I now have 2 dresses I like, that’s not bad, not only have I found an outfit, I have options. Brilliant. Right ok, what shoes? What coat/jacket would I wear? Back to the internet I go.

It is when I go back to the internet, I realise why I didn’t just order these in the first place. Its not the right occasion!!! They are far too dressy, this isn’t the look I was going for.

The problem is, the look I am going for is the look of a size 8 blonde woman of which I am not and I now don’t have time to become!

Its all knee high boots and tweed! Oh wait, the red tweed jacket. I have a little black dress in my wardrobe which I have only worn once, I could wear that with my knee high boots (just like the bestie had suggested) I go onto the Zara website, please please have it in stock! They do! I quickly order and pay extra for delivery on Monday. Now, to wait.

It arrives on Monday. I dutifully put it on the sofa to complete its sentence of being ignored, the fact that I now only have 3 days to find an outfit does nothing to speed me up. No, we must follow protocol. I manage to avoid the big box on the sofa until Tuesday afternoon when the bestie ruins my blissful ignorance by messaging me, asking me if I have decided on my outfit.

Now I will have to try it on. I open the box downstairs, I am feeling rebellious, this jacket cannot hurt me now, I have been through enough pain already, I have had a bodysuit in my hands this week. The jacket fits, which I already knew. It doesn’t with my loungewear though, I need to complete the look. I slip on the dress. It actually looks ok. Hurrah.

I get the husband to take a picture and I send it to her for her response (she still hasn’t replied to this message btw….) I feel relieved, I finally have an outfit.

This morning, I get up early, the bestie is selfishly living her own life and not putting everything on hold to answer my messages – Rude! I make myself a cup of tea, do my wordle, which I am not very good at and decide to look online and see what people wore at Cheltenham races yesterday, to make sure my outfit is suitable. Maybe it has become a really dressy affair overnight? You never know, I still have those dresses in the wardrobe, just in case.

I’m seeing lots of trousers and boots. My mind starts to wander. Maybe I should wear jeans and a black top with the jacket and boots? Have I got this wrong? There is no time to avoid anymore. I rush upstairs and frantically try the new outfit on. I quite like it. The husband, takes a pic and I send it to our girls Cheltenham whatsapp group, the husband said he likes it but I need a girls opinion.

Maybe I need a hat? People seem to be wearing hats. Should I go to Bluewater to get a hat? What colour hat would I wear? It would have to be black surely?

By the time I get a response from the group, I am back to thinking the dress would be better. I have also found another pair of knee high boots which are another option.

Shit, my hair. What am I going to do with my hair? Am I wearing a hat? Can I be bothered to drive to Bluewater just for a hat? No. Ok no hat. Back to the hair. Why don’t I have a go at doing pin curls? How do I do this? I find some tutorials online. I’ll give it a go. I’ll just get up extra early so I can wash it again if it ends up looking like a birds nest.

I bet I end up wearing one of the dressy dresses.

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2022-03-16 14:49:38

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