Death of an Ankle

I’ve undergone a bit of a transformation since I’ve kissed farewell to the goggles, as if I’ve shrugged off my Clark Kent geek specs and donned some red lycra pants and a cape and am now SuperLongTallAlly taking on fashion one garment at a time.

I’ve always had a passion for fashion but I’ve kept it fairly under wraps because it felt a bit silly having an interest in fashion when I was stuck wearing whatever I could find in my size. I very much admired it from afar and dreamt of the day when I’d be able to get more involved and actually have choice about what I wanted to wear and it appears that day is upon us. I can’t tell you how thrilling it is to go into the shops on the high street, AND BE ABLE TO WALK OUT WITH CLOTHES!!!

I’m off to a wedding at the end of March and so have been on the lookout for a new outfit even though I do have several ‘wedding’ outfits already in my wardrobe that could be recycled (different friendship group, doesn’t count!). However this forthcoming wedding is extra extra special to me so I thought I’d go the whole hog and get meself summat nice. I like to think of it as being a wedunion, that is a wedding rolled into a bit of a school reunion so a lovely occasion mixed in with something that strikes fear into the hardest of hearts. The happy couple also have the seal of approval from the Mothership who loved the Groom like an extra son and taught the Bride to read and clearly had a massive soft spot for her, so I think I was justified in hitting the shops right?

Hit the shops I did and it was bloody fantastic! I found myself spoilt for choice as I tried on endless dresses in Coast, Johnnie Loulou’s, Marks & Spencers and Monsoon. *gobsmacked face* I found myself enjoying being in the changing room trying on beautiful frocks in gorgeous knockout colours. I’m still not a fan of my calves which haven’t shrunk since I started losing weight so still look like they belong to a Russian male shotputter so I was swayed towards the realm of the maxi dress which I actually found quite flattering on my giantess frame.

To cut a long story short after ordering a dress from the Coast website that was less ‘va va voom’ and more ‘ha ha Hattie Jacques’ as it made my tits look matronly and shelf like I toddled into town to revisit some of the wonderful frocks I’d already tried on. Of course I ended up buying the one dress that wasn’t in the sale but my gosh I think/hope it is worth it. The very perky lady in Monsoon told me I should wear pewter accessories with it to make the colour ‘pop’ so I was left with the task of finding shoes and some sort of upper arm cover to hide the bingo wings.

I’m a bit worried that the shoes:

might be the death of me or at least a limb or two. They are very very high, very very fierce and very ‘fuck me’ (according to a gentleman who follows me on Twitter) and so I’ve been wearing them round the house in order to minimise ‘falling over and killing myself’ potential on the day. It would just be sod’s law that I’d spend all this time sorting out a lovely outfit to absolutely stack it and end up with a face full of concrete. It’s causing amusement for my housemates watching me delicately tap my way round the house wearing the heels, really rocking the look by topping it off with jeans and a paint covered decade old hoodie. Mmmm attractive. I say ‘delicately tapping my way round’ I do of course mean stomping like an elephant, walking like a man in drag, like a cowboy who has been in the saddle too long. I have a little bit of work to do in the ‘walking gracefully’ arena.

Wish me luck? One thing is for sure, if I do hit the deck at the wedding I shall never hear the end of it from the Groom….


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