Wiggle It Just a Little Bit

Well this blog post WAS going to be backed up with a photo of me semi-dressed but  those of you hoping for flesh shots will be disappointed to hear  that the phone the photo was on was stolen last night by some £*$&£ in a nightclub  in Weston-Super-Mare.  

This says a lot about nightclubs in Weston-Super-Mare but it also means that I am somewhat massively gutted  today and have lost over a 1,000 photos, mainly of my children, that my laptop refused to back up. 

However, lets not dwell on this matter and move on to the lighter topic of how I came to posses the photo in the first place. 

On Friday I went to Asda to buy bread, milk and cheese and, of course, came out about £80 poorer with 3  pointless nighties, a bottle of vodka and no bread.   

Whilst browsing the clothing I spotted a really cute blue summer dress with white hearts on it and a pencil skirt. Quite retro.  I think they call them wiggle dresses - but that makes me feel slightly unsettled for some reason so I will just call it 'the dress'.  

So I took the dress  into the changing room and put it on.

Or tried to.  

The top half slipped on easily but the bottom part was totally and utterly wedged on my hips.  I checked the label concerned I'd picked up some kind of micro size. 

Nope.  

Right size.  

OK so  that means I HAVE to get it on or my self-esteem for the day will be destroyed by the knowledge my thighs are 4 sizes bigger than my bust (which would be going some) and I am officially, in the eyes of Asda pattern cutters, a mutant.  

15 minutes of grunting, heaving, panting and yeah, wriggling, later the dress was on.  

Yipee!  Ok the skirt was so tight I couldn't move - let alone walk - but I had made the point that I was that size and the dress was actually really nice.  Although for anyone to see this you'd need to be mounted on wheels and pushed about the place like a one of those toy dogs.  

What I couldn't work out was why there was an extra flap of material hanging from the waist.  A kind of loop with an open  end which if you held it up you could see right down to my knickers.  I figured it was some kind of wrap part that should be under the top part of the dress round the bust area but couldn't make it worked it out so shuffled, with 2mm footsteps, out to the changing room assistant......

Me: Excuse me - you don't know where this part of this dress is meant to be do you? 

Changing room assistant (woman in her 50's with a weatherworn expression clearly thinking 'What Fresh Nut is This?'): Yes love - it's for your other leg.  

Bravo - I'd spent 15 minutes of  my life inserting my entire body into the right hand leg of a playsuit.  

And then I had to get the bugger off again.........

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