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Stuffing my face. All over the place.
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Family Travel News and Holiday Reviews
Family, food, travel, gin and a touch of hysteria…
ENGLISH MUM IN THE PRESS

Mutton

It’s a sad confession, dear reader, but I think I’ve ‘let myself go’. I’ve been having a very interesting (and hilarious) email discussion with the ravishing C on the subject. We were talking about the latest fashions, but ended up lamenting the fact that now we’re thirtyharumph (oops, bit of a cough there), bending down for any reason whilst naked (keep it clean now, people) is an absolute no-no, especially near a mirror. Gravity is finally taking its toll. How did this happen?

Now C, as you know, is both beautiful and groomed, but confessed to a crisis where fashion is concerned: ‘?With the sun shining I decided I needed some new trendy summer clothes. Off to Debenhams I went, husband and kids in tow. A few pennies lighter, I unpacked it at home and tried it all on. I had even purchased a pair of black leggings (oh, don’t worry – THEY are going back!). What is it with this floaty, maternity style clothing? It doesn’t suit me. Where do I fit in fashion wise? I am too old, too flabby and too grumpy!‘ Firstly let me say that, being the same youthful age as me, she’s certainly not too old, and unless the girl has been inhaling Mars bars since she was here last, she’s certainly not too flabby either. In fact, on our first ‘grown up’ holiday sans-parents in our teenage years, I nearly gave myself a hernia trying to hold my stomach in for an entire week whilst lying on a sunbed in a bikini next to her. Nothing’s changed.

But the point here is that C is right. Someone sage and thoughtful once said that if you’d experienced a fashion the first time around (see leggings above), then you shouldn’t even attempt it. Now okay, I don’t want to parade around in a puffball and cut off tights, but I don’t want to gravitate into nylon slacks and cardies quite yet either. I love my Seven jeans, but I now appear to be sporting a rubber ring of flab around the top of them every time I bend over. I can’t bear to think that I might be mutton dressed as lamb! What to do?

There’s nothing for it. I’m off back to the unfeasibly large shopping centre for some big support knickers and a floaty maternity top. Trendy and comfy. Just what the doctor ordered.

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