You know what is really, really stupid?
I have spent an inordinate amount of time over the past two weeks thinking about how gross I am. Normally, Bendon, I'd sing your praises to the high heavens (Glory Be To Elle MacPherson and Praise the Sainted Underwire!), but I bought some discount plain cotton undies from the store a while ago and christ, they make me feel ugly. I've never had a problem before with cotton knickers - they're the business. Comfortable and always available in a range of sassy colours. Tend not to creep up your crack / go some feral colour in the wash / shed elastane within about 5 wears. Safe knickers. Sure, they're not going to be the best in the event of you get accidentally seduced by Ryan Gosling (or Justin Long, is that weird? He seems so ... genuinely funny?) but you're not going to be upset about what the paramedic is seeing if you're involved in some kind of bicycle accident. So yeah, I love me some sensible knickers.
AND YET, BENDON, AND YET.
It's probably just that I've stacked on some belly recently but my latest cotton dacks are JUST SO GROUSE. They sit at exactly the wrong place to look even remotely attractive. Poor old P has bought me drawers worth of frippery which sits idle (my knicker drawers also hold: eleventy billion odd socks, ribbons, broken pens, lost necklaces, single earrings, a flaming treasure trove of stuff I never use) and here I am wearing cotton gruts that even I can't even stand.
Things have got to change around here. I may be getting older, fatter, more shortsighted and grumpier by the day but BY GOD I WILL HAVE NICE KNICKERS if it kills me. SURELY that will be the cure to my body issues? (ha...as opposed to regular healthy diet and exercise. trust me, I'm aware of how fucking warped this logic is but so help me jeebus, I stand by my assertion that lace on my derriere will assist).
So yeah, that's what's really, really stupid. Add it to the list of bullshit resolutions I make around here.