Sunday, 17 April 2011

Planning the summer wardrobe

We have been wearing the same clothes everyday since we fell off the plane last Thursday.

I am not proud. It is thanks to no one in this family having the foresight, mental agility or practical mind to actually bring any clothes with them from Hong Kong. (Although I brought home a rubber tomato, which I could count as novelty clothing if I stick it over a left nipple.)

Shark, Squirrel and Tiger brought home nothing to wear. I mean, nothing.

In one way, I am secretly proud. They filled their bags with books, books, and more books, and it proves what a fantastic educator I am. Then again, it does prove how much they ignore me. Because don't say I didn't warn them. I said (repeatedly) the clothes you left behind in England last summer will not fit your tummies now, so bring your Hong Kong stuff from H&M and do not rely on those old Adams jeans age 9, even if they were your favourites.

Now see how the mother is always proved right? Everyone rolls out of bed this morning to cram legs and arms into clothes several sizes too small. Squirrel is the only one to whom I cannot say I told you so. She has no concern at all. If she likes it, she wears it, whether the jeans are fitted for age 9 or not and whatever my eyeballs are doing. She is happy. I tell myself she is exploring the neglected kid vibe when her jeans zip doesn't pull up, the shirt sleeves are up her armpits and the back seam is entirely ripped, and she can walk four paces ahead of me on the route we take today into H&M, England.

But it is Sunday, apparently. Which means arriving to emergency clothes shop in H&M is foolish at 3.30pm. I forget these things. Nevertheless, this is a true emergency, so I do a Hong Kong clothes shopping routine which is hand out a bundle of money, say go and choose stuff and give me the receipts so I can bring back the pelmet skirt and bra tops on Monday.

Me, I am impressed by my own foresight. I dumped all my useful clothing months ago. I put into a Help the Aged sack all the size 10 clothes. Like the soft and beautiful Max Mara top (BUGGERBUGGERBUGGER), the Jean Paul Galtier trousers (BUGGERBUGGERBUGGER) and the beautiful M&S green dress that fitted like a dream (BUGGERBUGGERBUGGER). I then shoved back into my wardrobe all old clothes size 14 and up.

Of course I had the wisdom to see I would never go to Hong Kong, fall into a depression brought about by life circumstance and a homesick child, shrink two dress sizes, then come home with only a rubber tomato as covering for a size 10 pair of bosoms.

I'm now planning my own clothes shopping down the charity shop on Monday.