They tell me that blogs are becoming obsolete so what’s the point in continuing to write one? It's not as if this one ever set the world on fire anyway. I write because the compulsion to communicate overrides my inherent self consciousness. Plus I spend a lot of time on my own and find that the urge to shout into the void becomes too great to ignore at times.
There are certain things in life which should feel like a minor episode but actually take up far too much head space. Routine tasks which are actually far too emotionally loaded. The last two weeks have contained two such things - shopping for a swimsuit and sending something back to a shop.
I took something back to the shop and it felt like a monumental task. (I don’t know about you but everything feels like a Herculean feat at the moment)
My constant quest for the perfect swimsuit prevails - something practical yet aesthetically pleasing. Something which offers enough industrial strength support so I feel comfortable and contained but not so much of that ‘support’ that it’s difficult to breathe and I feel like I’m going to vomit an internal organ. I can't have meaningful congress with bandeau styles, halter necks or 'handkerchief' tops.
I thought I’d found the perfect costume - a tankini which resembled a dress. It looked lovely on the model and it promised to make my figure ‘even more perfect’ OK, folks, if you think that’s even possible….
When the swimming costume came it was truly awful, I might just as well have tried to make myself a garment from a canvas tote bag. Things were spilling out everywhere and do you know what? It didn't make my figure look 'even more spectacular'! I had to bite the bullet and send it back!
This task involved going to the local shop to dispatch the offending item back to the evil, multinational conglomerate. The conglomerate promised me it would be easy. ‘Simply take this QR code to the nearest drop off point and they will scan the code and print the label for you’. They promised. No they won’t, evil conglomerate, they will resentfully wave you vaguely in the direction of the self service scanning/printing machine, leaving you to stew in your own incompetence! Whereupon you will uselessly waggle your phone at the machine, while the people behind the counter offer no support at all and you begin to wonder whether this procedure is emblematic of your whole life. I don't know what I've done to offend the man in the shop - perhaps I look like the person who rear ended him in 1998, or the doctor who scraped his cornea while conducting a routine examination, but his distaste for me seems to know no bounds.
Whenever people are unhelpful and/or unfriendly in shops it puts me in mind of the swimming pool receptionist from The Day Today:
I’ve ordered a couple of swimsuits from a website that I use a lot - specifically from their ‘Curve’ section. What I like about this site is that reviewers post plenty of photos of themselves wearing the gear so you get to see what it looks like on someone with a similar shape to yourself, not just modelled by a six foot tall alien. Sometimes the reviewer’s refreshing frankness makes me laugh ‘perfect if you’ve got big tits’, or ‘usually seeing myself in swimwear makes me want to kill myself but this is actually super cute’. I think that 'super cute' might be a bit of a stretch for me, I'd settle for acceptable.
So yeah, fingers crossed and all that......
No comments:
Post a Comment