Thoughts on Being Single

As a single woman there are many things you suddenly need to think about that, to be honest, did not really matter that much anymore. For instance, first impressions. It hadn't mattered for the last 6 years if the first thing an eligible young man heard me say was "He's got about as much of a chance of getting that approved as the hensen has of living through the whole episode of Star Trek." 

Or indeed if I said this while sporting hair that needed washing and cheap jeans. Because I had my Beloved who knew of my Star Trek knowledge and rarely took notice of my jeans or hair. But now...well. One never knows, in this modern metrosexual world, when to expect one's next close up. With the result that things like bikini lines and matching underwear have once more popped into my life. 

I did already have some nice underwear, but just not that much of it. So I decided yesterday that this was the best possible time to go shopping for some. So off I went. I chose Debenhams. I have tried John Lewis and I have tried House of Fraser and they are both laid out weirdly so you get lost wondering about, like Father Ted. But the Debenhams on Oxford Street packs it all in there tighter than a thong and so you get maximum shop for minimum schlop. 

I think no one who has read this blog before can be in doubt of my polka dot addiction. The only surprise about my new undies is that only two of the sets feature them, and only on these are they the main attraction. Purest silk. I shall wear these while playing quoits on the sundeck of a cruise liner. Under my ASOS play-suit which will be a playful little thing with a nautical theme. 

A more practical cotton for those days on the farm when the cherries have ripened and need picking and making into good old cherry pie. To be topped off with a pinafore dress and one of those smock aprons. Plus hair up in a teatowel to stop the flour getting in it. Or it in the flour.

With a B for Byrne, these babies take no prisoners as I strut on 4 inch black patent stilettos from one high powered meeting to another. Lunching on sushi and expresso, I exchange flirtatious glances with the man from Marketing before making him redundant at 3pm.

It's the first night at the Opera and a  single beautiful tear rolls down my cheek as Madam Butterfly plunges the dagger into her breast. I stand and applaud as the curtain closes, it's folds reminiscent of my own scanties. 

And what does this have to do with Lixie Making It? Nothing whatsoever. It is purely my underwear. My only craft recently has been my sock yarn cardi where second sleeve is 75% done. I move next Saturday and just boxed up all my other craft supplies so there will be nothing interesting to show for another week or so. But then, expect pics of the new flat! Tra la.