My £3.50 dress!

('Yes but how much was the cardigan, hmm?' - Ed)

I’m always scribbling instructions to myself in secret notebooks. ‘Drink water’, ‘stop guzzling wine’, ‘don’t be a bad tempered bag’ - all that stuff. But when Substack told me I’ve been writing this weekly newsletter* for a year now, it struck me that I can ‘goal set’ all I want - I know that sounds annoying - because I never improve. I just remain exactly the same.

(*It doesn’t feel like a newsletter because there’s absolutely zero news in it. Column? Missive? Assorted ramblings? What d’you think I should call it?)

Anyway, it made me think… what exactly have I done in this past year?

I haven’t stopped guzzling wine. Yes, I’ve stopped galloping to Londis for a type of cheap sauvignon called Secretary Bird, but only because my kids were laughing at me. But I haven’t lowered my consumption (wine gives me gushing night sweats but I battle on, heroically). I haven’t managed to progress beyond the very beginner’s level of Duolingo Spanish or embarked on any weight bearing exercise.

Also, I haven’t paid attention to current style trends and updated my ‘look’. Recently, I realised I’m still applying my make-up, not just in the same way as last year - but exactly as I did in 1992.

The brown eye shadow I’m wedded to is still belting out And eye-eee-eye-ee-eye…. will always luuurve yoooo-hooooo-oooooo! at frightening volume and smoking in the office. It’s still excited by pesto and forces down a bowl of All-Bran for breakfast (never mind your fancy chia puddings. Fibre - and ‘staying regular’ - is the hot thing where my face is concerned).

My make-up doesn’t own a mobile phone - they’re not yet in popular usage - and hasn’t heard of Taylor Swift because she is THREE.

I’m so outdated, I realise - having completely missed the contouring trend. For me, contours are those lines on maps. But then, old things are often the best, don’t you think? As I creep towards my flipping 60th birthday, I’ve realised the things that have some history to them are actually… not that bad. In fact in some case, they’re better.

Last week I found a pre-loved Karen Millen dress at a local event called Bungo in the Lanes. I realise this sounds like something you could be in serious trouble for: ‘She was sentenced to twelve months’ community service for Bungo in the Lanes.’ But it’s actually an annual residents’ market in a pretty part of Glasgow’s Southside - called Strathbungo - and I nabbed this dress for £3.50!

I also realise that Karen Millen is another terribly ‘90s thing - tight cleavage-out dresses for women who nibble on canapes. I’d never shop there. Not in a billion years. But this dress? I loved it!

It had its first outing at my daughter’s graduation.

When I first showed it to my friend Jackie she said, ‘It’s lovely but everyone will be able to see your knickers through that.’

‘No, it looks sheer but it’s actually fine when it’s on,’ I assured her.

But just to be safe I tried it on again and looked properly, and my underwear was so visible, it would’ve basically been a pair of big old pants mingling with the fancy frocks of Glasgow University’s graduation day.

Please keep this under your hat but I spent £50 on a cardigan to go over it and £20 on a slip to go under it.

So basically I spent £70 in order to make a £3.50 dress wearable. I realise this is like thinking, ‘Oh, I’ll use up that shrivelled leek.’ And the recipe you pick, in order to use up a single wizened thing, requires you to buy parmesan, saffron, medjool dates, truffle oil and seven kinds of fresh herb but at least you saved the ruddy leek!

But this wasn’t a shrivelled leek kind of day. Far from it. It was brilliant, and I felt so happy and emotional and nearly bubbled off all my 1992 make-up.

Everyone’s allowed a proud mama moment, right?

Best of all, I didn’t ruin the day by showing my knickers.

Love,

Fiona xx

PS If you’re after a fun and emotional and - dare I say it - very funny holiday read, then you can nab my latest, The Woman Who Ran Away From Everything, here! If Kindle’s your thing, it’s just £1.99. Also a bargain. And no undie-concealing slip required!