Fat Face Frenzy

So, I have been back at work three days a week since the middle of March, and end of April is when I get my P60, thus enabling me to calculate what our much reduced family income now is, and hence, whether we can ever eat Waitrose cheesecake again with a clear conscience. That means, since it’s now the middle of May, that not only should I get around to that forthwith, but also, that I should clearly treat myself to a Muslin Mummy Makeover before I work it all out and realise we can’t afford it.

Well, when I say makeover, I really just mean some new clothes. Ain’t gonna start wearing actual make-up anytime soon. So, Fat Face sends me a 20% off online voucher, and a catalogue of vibrant, outdoorsy types looking carefree in exotic, sunny locations — and Fat Face’s summer range, natch. Embarrassing to relate, I place this on the pile of worthy reading beside the loo, and carefully peruse it for signs of garb suitable for my mumsy, unoutdoorsy, non-exotic lifestyle, but that will yet convey to me some hint and flavour of such excursions as surfing in Cuba or mountain trekking in Tibet.

I am surely overdue for a new bikini! And an African bead pattern seems meant for me! Maybe halter necks are good for suntans and my new topheavier shape (yes, still breastfeeding the Thirsty Mouth)…Plus, that same topheavy look is causing shirts from my previous life’s wardrobe to seem strangely short in front, exposing midriff in a way that I feel is less than delightful in an office environment. And an office environment is exactly where, Monday to Wednesday, I can sport such shirts, unequipped as they are with those handy flaps for breastfeeding. So, I clearly require a longer sort of top. Embroidered slouchy long tee!

And finally…though it did not adorn the alluring pages of the catalogue, I unaccountably spy the perfect skirt. Flatteringly cut above the knee, wide for brisk walking, pockets galore, general funky look, neutral go-with-lots colour!

It’s clear that I can’t be giving up legwaxing anytime soon either. I certainly hope there are some pennies earmarked personal adornment left over from mortgage, bills, food and nursery fees. It’s not like I’m shopshopshoppin’ at Sienna Miller's store, now is it?