I’ve had two children in the last four years, so the last time I was a regular size 12 I was on the early side of 30. At that stage, I was young enough to get away with mini skirts, knee high boots and skimpy tops with impunity.
Not having invested much in my wardrobe for the last half decade I found myself trying on stuff in my wardrobe from way back then for a night out in Fulham tonight, and realised I have suddenly changed from the lamb I once was into mutton. Instead of making me feel sexy, my Saturday night gear now makes me feel like I should be standing on a street corner, waiting for business. It’s not just that there are lumps and bumps in all the wrong places, it’s that there’s just not enough cloth.
From now on I shall live by the addage, less flesh is more.
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