I have run out of cynical things to say about the current glorious weather, and have decided that I must enjoy it from now on... while it lasts -D'oh! There I go again!
The temperatures in Ballyfuck/ Department mean it is no longer possible for me to wear my shirty-type blouses at work / driving to work without melting. And nobody wants to step in a puddle that was once an EO.
So I've had to rummage around in the back of the wardrobe for more suitable stuff.
The criteria are:
1. That it must fit. Given that I've not worn some of these things since we last had sun in 2006, the chances are slim (ha!) to none.
2. It must not be stained. Curry / beer stains undermine my authority as a supervisor and just show me off to be the beer swigging, vindaloo munching person that I really am.
3. It must not reveal my cleavage in any way (i.e. no "pulling" tops. Even though they are perfect in terms of aeration, I still don't want the leery guy from the neighbouring section trying to get a look at my bra while I'm at the printer).
4. It must not be part of my typical weekend going-down-the-pub-for-pints wear: i.e. Father Jack/ Che Guevara/Guinness/ Munster RFC/ GAA are out.
Anyway, I managed to find some stuff that met all these criteria. Yes, even the first one... I am actually more svelte than in 2006, apparently.
Gleefully pulling a respectable, fitted garment over my head this morning I took some time to assess the look in the mirror. My top, though it fitted me, looked far from flattering...
What the hell... WHY DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE EXTRA NIPPLES? I look like a less well endowed cousin of the Triple Breasted Whore of Eroticon Six! (With apologies to Douglas Adams) Oh, wait, it's just the seam on my bra. Umm... that won't do. I don't want to draw Leery Guy's attention. Maybe if I get a top in a different fabric the seam won't show. Err... no, that won't work either. Maybe a different bra... (and so on. )
I finally leave the house satisfied that there are no lumps or bumps where they shouldn't be. Behind me I have left a trail of destruction. It looks like Bannockburn after the battle, except with clothes and differently seamed bras, not bodies and broken, bloody swords. To be tidied up when I get home. I'm late for work as it is.
I find my winter wardrobe far easier to cope with. You can hide everything under those layers.
By the way, this is the first time I've mentioned the word "Nipples" in a blog post. It's downhill from here, I'm afraid...
The temperatures in Ballyfuck/ Department mean it is no longer possible for me to wear my shirty-type blouses at work / driving to work without melting. And nobody wants to step in a puddle that was once an EO.
So I've had to rummage around in the back of the wardrobe for more suitable stuff.
The criteria are:
1. That it must fit. Given that I've not worn some of these things since we last had sun in 2006, the chances are slim (ha!) to none.
2. It must not be stained. Curry / beer stains undermine my authority as a supervisor and just show me off to be the beer swigging, vindaloo munching person that I really am.
3. It must not reveal my cleavage in any way (i.e. no "pulling" tops. Even though they are perfect in terms of aeration, I still don't want the leery guy from the neighbouring section trying to get a look at my bra while I'm at the printer).
4. It must not be part of my typical weekend going-down-the-pub-for-pints wear: i.e. Father Jack/ Che Guevara/Guinness/ Munster RFC/ GAA are out.
Anyway, I managed to find some stuff that met all these criteria. Yes, even the first one... I am actually more svelte than in 2006, apparently.
Gleefully pulling a respectable, fitted garment over my head this morning I took some time to assess the look in the mirror. My top, though it fitted me, looked far from flattering...
What the hell... WHY DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE EXTRA NIPPLES? I look like a less well endowed cousin of the Triple Breasted Whore of Eroticon Six! (With apologies to Douglas Adams) Oh, wait, it's just the seam on my bra. Umm... that won't do. I don't want to draw Leery Guy's attention. Maybe if I get a top in a different fabric the seam won't show. Err... no, that won't work either. Maybe a different bra... (and so on. )
I finally leave the house satisfied that there are no lumps or bumps where they shouldn't be. Behind me I have left a trail of destruction. It looks like Bannockburn after the battle, except with clothes and differently seamed bras, not bodies and broken, bloody swords. To be tidied up when I get home. I'm late for work as it is.
I find my winter wardrobe far easier to cope with. You can hide everything under those layers.
By the way, this is the first time I've mentioned the word "Nipples" in a blog post. It's downhill from here, I'm afraid...
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2 comments:
It's great to be a bloke.
I agree, Shane. Blokes don't have to put up with annoying bra straps, periods or all the other assorted females woes. On the other hand, we have cheap car insurance :P
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