New Year’s Eve at the Hotel Paradiso

I spent my New Year’s Eve in the company of some wonderful friends in 1920’s Gay Paris at “The Hotel Paradiso” investigating the shocking murder of the renowned chocolatier, Mr Billy Bonka. It was tremendous fun because people put time and effort into their costumes (and their accents – Mais oui!) and inhibitions were firmly put to one side by the amount of wine that was tucked away.

I was playing an eccentric archaeologist called Dr Doris Johnson (what do you mean typecasting?!) and as usual, really went to town with my costume. The main component of it was a wardrobe staple to all women everywhere, the little black dress.

It was £12 from Sainsbury’s but honestly it made me feel so amazing that it could have been £12,000 from Chanel. What were the magical properties of this garment? Well for starters it was SHORT, not bum skimming fanny hanging out immodest short but it was, *gasp* above the knee. Seriously that’s a big deal for me, the last time I wore a skirt above the knee I was 13. It was my Mum and Dad’s 25th wedding anniversary and they threw a huge party for everyone we knew. Which makes it 15 years since my knees saw the light of day… Bloody hell!

The other thing that was incredible was being able to grab a dress off the rack and take it home without having to try it on, knowing it would fit me. A complete revelation! I’m still gobsmacked by how cheap clothes are now my bum isn’t the size of Germany anymore. In the old days, the fat days, even a simple cami top would cost double digits because of the amount of fabric needed to cover my wabs. Well not anymore suckers!

I frequently think I’ve got my head round this being smaller thing and then something comes along to bring me back to earth with a nice bump. Like the wonderful Cornflake texting me to apologise for not telling me how great I looked at the dinner party. Having not seen me for a little while he was quick to tell me that my transformation is incredible.

I have to say, I think all my friends are pretty incredible for standing by me through all this. Oh, and for not squawking massively about the appearance of my knees! That would have made me run for the hills 😉


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