Just let me rant...

Last night, Ash and I went in search of a pub with a dance floor. And we found one. A fairly good one at that. It was, in fact, full of actual grown ups, a nice change from the usual crowd of teenagers we regularly find ourselves surrounded by when going out dancing. That’s where I was faced, one more time, one too many times, by the reality that it doesn’t matter how old you are or how mature you are meant to be, there are things that just don’t change, especially when alcohol is involved.

And I’m afraid I’m not talking about being able to have a good fun night without getting totally hammered or behave in a way that reflects your maturity. No. I am talking about something much more troubling. I am talking about how totally surreal my evenings out, in this country, can truly get. Over the years, I have grown familiar to a range of fascinating behaviour when out during the week-end.

One that comes to mind is the Island Bag Ladies. You know the type. A bunch of women dancing in a circle, worshiping their purses as they lay them in the centre of their little convent. And that drives me crazy! What do they need those for anyway? Oh yes, I forgot, they carry their full make up kit in there. For you gentlemen, who have not had the privilege to experience the women’s toilets in a pub or club on a Saturday night, count yourself lucky! Imagine, if you will, a herd of drunken swaying giraffes, desperately trying to carefully reapplying their faces on. The thing is, past a certain time – usually by 8pm!!! – it really doesn’t make any difference anymore, the beer goggles stops the opposite gender to notice the difference! I say, put your face on before you leave home, slap a 20 in your bra and leave that dreadful bag behind. I think we should ban those bags the way bouncers ban drinks from the dance floor. I mean, they are already limited in space, so that island just ends up cramming my style, to be honest.

And while I was watching these mammals circling their totems last night, I noticed a few women wearing that new style skirt, the one that puffs up at the front and is rather tight at the back. You know the one I mean? That’s when I had an epiphany. I am now convinced that a couple of designers, up there in their big offices, surrounded by miles of fabrics, bored and uninspired had a bet. Who could come up with the worse possible design, making sure it would be unflattering no matter how slim or fit the model is. Then, give it to a few unsuspecting celebrities who will happily wear it on the red carpet and turn it into an overnight fashion must have. It is unreal how gullible some people are, because I am still waiting for the woman who can make it work. It’s unflattering on the best looking models, so to have women above a size zero wearing it is just ridiculous.

And it’s not just that skirt. Why can’t folks work with their own body, instead of trying to fit into a design that is only specific to one type of body shape? I have a fabulous big chest, so yes, I use it and make the best of the figure I have to look feminine and sexy. Ash doesn’t, but she has a really gorgeous perky butt, so no, she won’t be wearing really low cut tops but tight skirts or trousers which accentuate one of her best features. I’m not only talking about big women who try to pull off outfit that really shouldn’t be worn by anyone above a size 14. Don’t get me started on that! I’m talking about how, despite being confident working people, some women just have to put on show as much skin as they physically can before falling into the indecent category. Now, I admit thoroughly enjoying people watching when out, but sometimes, I worry about the future of this country, because when it comes to dress sense, let me tell you, some people are totally clueless.