"Tiffany did not have to look to know who was talking. Only Daft Wullie could put his foot in it as far up as his neck. She looked down at his beaming little face. And he never did quite understand what it was that he was doing wrong."
"He always got nervous when talking about his wife, Tiffany knew. He loved her to distraction, and the thought of her even frowning in his direction turned his knees to jelly."
I've mentioned before how much I dislike clothes shopping. I have no idea what looks good, what looks good with anything else, what looks good on me.
I see other women walking around looking nice, but when I shop I usually end up with just another one of whatever I had that has now worn out.
But now there's an "event" on the horizon. And I need to look nice.
Let's be Frank here, or Earnest, if that's who you prefer, I'm terrified of getting it wrong.
Which is why I continue to wear shabby shorts and ten year old t-shirts.
My older daughter suggested she come shopping with me to help.
Oh, yes please!
The girl has good taste.
She's classy. And she didn't get that from me.
So off we went and in almost no time at all, I had a nice pair of casual 3/4 pants
with a bit of bling down the outside seam near the hem,
(it's a little blurry)
a nice breezy black blouse with small white polka dots,
and a lovely handbag in a classic style that won't date, not too soon anyway,
in a colour to match the pants.
I already had decent 'neat casual' shoes. Flat heels, extremely comfortable.
I have never worn anything with polka dots in my life, I've never liked spots; but as soon as T picked out the blouse, I could see that it would go really well with the chosen pants.
So here I am, all set for the happy event, and the clothes were on sale, so they didn't break the budget at all. Which left enough in the kitty for the good handbag.
And the clothes aren't so classy that I'm out of my comfort zone.
The event? my grand daughter's engagement party.