Due to a clerical error this morning I found myself hurrying to work juggling my handbag, an umbrella, my Blackberry, my car keys and some Gok Wan suck ’em in pants tucked under my arm. I was wearing a white floaty summer dress (yes, I know it looks like November outside) and no knickers. In fact the knickers that were supposed to be clutching my butt cheeks together were clenched in a death like grip under my left elbow for fear of dropping them. To add insult to injury, it was windy and I had no hands free in case the Gods decided it was time to thrust me and my vagina into the limelight by whipping my skirt up round my ears and flashing my ladygarden to the people also scurrying to the office. I must have been good in a previous life because I managed to make it all the way from the car to the office without even flashing too much thigh let alone any vajayjay.
Why pray tell am I wearing a floaty dress and no knickers on an August day that is masquerading as December? Because I am going to a book launch obviously! The supremo authoress Lucy-Anne Holmes is having a shindig to launch ‘The (im)Perfect Girlfriend’, follow up to the hugely successful ’50 Ways to Find a Lover’ and I am lucky enough to have been invited. *dances* Seeing as Lucy is the woman who uttered the immortal words ‘Have you thought about writing a book?’ and ‘Can I introduce you to my agent?’ I owe her a great deal (plus her books are bloody hilarious, go and read!) and thus shall be hurtling through Friday rush hour traffic on the M25 to bask in her glory. And possibly lick her.
Really though, why no knickers? The ones I needed to wear with this dress were hiding in the passenger footwell of my car having fallen out of my weekend bag (they’re clean!) and as I am not related to Harry Houdini I was unable to wiggle my tush into the trampoline material shorts in the confines of my car. You’ll be relieved to hear that as soon as I reached the office toilets I wriggled my way into them with a satisfying snap of the waistband. I then continued to my desk safe in the knowledge that if a tornado whirled through my office the only thing my colleagues would see would be my slightly greying trampoline pants. Delightful.