Life's too short

(Via Go Fug Yourself)

Good morning. This is the conversation I had with my lovely colleague DC yesterday when I showed her my lunch time purchases.  Exhanges actually, if we are being factually correct.  I am attempting to save, so just keep swapping things at H&M.  Swapping and swapping and swapping.  It's quite good fun akshully, even mildly addictive.)

ME: '....and I got this...hair.....band…thing. Corsage...thing. I'll see how that goes....'
DC: 'Aaaaaha.'
ME: '....and THIS!'
DC: 'Nice sweater!'
ME; 'It’s a dress DC.'
DC: 'It's a top.'
ME: 'No? Really? I think it's a dress.'
DC: (Looking pointedly at the acreage of exposed thigh on show in current outfit and shaking head sadly.) 'No Hayley. It's a top.'

Then I had this conversation with The Head.

ME: 'Whaddya think of this?'
TH: 'Nice dress!'

DC is not a puritan. She has pink hair, a tongue stud and is generously tattooed so she has got me worried. Is The Head just used to my bottom being very very close to the hem of my outfits? Is it a long jumper? Is it a bloody tunic? Tunics are good for nothing and should only be worn by Byzantine Greeks. I would rather be wearing a jumper wrongly than a bloody tunic. Unsurprisingly I have ‘it’ on as a dress. I mean it covers my private zone so for me it's a done deal. It is also a lovely dove grey and knitted and high necked so demure in all other ways. If I make it to the end of the day without being arrested or accosted I'm in the right.

And whilst I'm here, the headband worked beautifully. I love it. I even went to bed in it last night like an infant. It shall henceforth be referred to as My Head Corsage. Thank you.