Okay, I've come to the conclusion that nowhere on earth do you look uglier than in a Marks & Spencer's changing room. It's like the opposite of beer goggles. At home, see, if I look at my body in the mirror I generally think: "Well ... Okay, considering." In a M&S changing room, in front of all those multi-angled mirrors - I look like Lardzilla. My gut hangs like a wet sack, my grey thighs bulge like sausages full of badly-minced dead pig, and I can see every individual cellulite cell. How do they do this? Do they use special Evil Lighting? And if so - WHY?
(Having said that, I will grudgingly forgive them. They have invented the Control Thong, which is - wait for it - a full elasticated panel at the front to hold in said sack-like tum, and a thong at the back so your bum still sticks out and wobbles. Genius! And in my case perfect for Victorian dress-up.)
8 comments:
At least M&S changing rooms aren't *shudder* communal. Victorian dress-up sounds divine.
I'm a bit nervous: It's not the sort of event I have ever been to before. May report further if it goes well!
Oh, you HAVE to - I am intrigued now!
I love Victorian dress up. Just remember not to sit down, or try to eat too much, or bend.
Have you noticed how penile the archway behind the Victorian ladies, at the right of the photo looks?
I'm just saying...
Uuuh ... got home 6.30am. Woke up this afternoon encrusted with something yucky ... Mascara, in fact. Sets like glue, this stuff.
Badly need coffee...
*laughing* @ Madelynne's comment - "...I love Victorian dress up. Just remember not to sit down, or try to eat too much, or bend...."
or it appears, breath!
Janine, you're adorable. Maybe a boycott of M&S until they rearrange the name and it's called S&M? :-)
Um ... Some of us at the BL party actually heard an erotica writer claim there was a "lot of M&S" in her book. We weren't sure if she'd just made a verbal slip-up or if all her characters were wearing really nice sensible clothes...
;-)
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