I actually Went Out this weekend, with Bjarni, of course, seems I haven't made any friends yet. He coaxed me out of the house in an attempt to cure my brush with depression. I think it might've worked — I was so excited to be going to the pub that I wore all my jewellery at once. I don't know how fashionable this is, but seems it all came from a very exclusive store in London (called "Accessorize") I reckon I was onto a winner.
I also wore the very high-heeled lace-up fuck-me-boots that I chose in a moment of madness back when the Edwardian style made its comeback. Do you remember, a couple of years ago, when all the women teetered around dressed up like Dick Turpin on heels? It was ridick then and no less ridick in Dublin on a Friday night, I can tell you.
I'm out of practise in heels. I haven't had much use for them recently, as I've skulked around my apartment eating bread from the bag and crying. So I was a bit wobbly in them, to say the least. Even standing still I had to hold my arms out either side of me like an aeroplane, just to keep my balance. It's unfortunate that the one night of the year that I don't wear comfortable shoes, I end up in a lesbian bar. But at least I looked like an over-accessorised highwayman, even if I couldn't walk like one, which was the main thing.
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Adam Ant will be singing in my head all day now... i'm sure you looked quite...dashing.
ReplyDeleteHmmm...Princess Charming! Bet you looked great. I also cannot walk in heels - makes my bum stick out but not in a good, Kylie-esque way, more like a duck. Did it cheer you up tho?
ReplyDeleteNow I have Adam Ant stuck in my head, too. I didn't even think of that when I wrote the title.
ReplyDeleteYes, it did cheer me up. I must start going out more often. It at least took my mind off things. Though that was probably just the cocktails.
Never underestimate the anti-depressant power of cocktails and fuck me boots, as my old nan used to say.
ReplyDeleteHappy thoughts your way, honey.
There is no question in my mind that you looked adorable. Beautiful freckled women who are slightly tipsy and wearing high heels and too much jewellry -- there's a sight for sore eyes, I should think. Should have taken photos.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear of your brush with the downness. Still, lace-up boots and cocktails do help, as it appears do banoffi pie boyfriends. I think the post-high of coming back yippee is bound to lead to the oh bugger what am I doing with my miserable life-ness. But soon to come is the glorious who cares it's spring and gainful employment would only be a liability with the summer coming stage, so don't despair!
ReplyDeleteThank you all for your lovely comments. I should point out that my little "brush with depression" has nothing to do with moving countries. It's more complicated family stuff that I'm going to "keep off the internet", as my pals have advised me.
ReplyDeleteI am, in fact, very very happy with my personal life, where I am, and everything that I'm blessed with at the moment. Which sounds kind of religious or soemthing. Oh dear. But you know what I mean.
I must write about all the good stuff soon. Including Bjarni, who is the best thing in the world.
I hope you feel better soon Annie. It seems at least that you have a great positive attitude which helps a lot!
ReplyDeleteI have to say though that girls have it so much easier than boys. What if I wanted to cheer myself up by wearing a pair of fuck me boots? I'd be either beaten up or sent to the Rocky Horror Picture Show auditions. It's just not fair.
Thank you Conortje. And yes, I know what you mean, I feel especially sorry for boys when they have hangovers. They can't just cover their horrible, dying faces up with lots and lots of orange foundation and get away with it like I can.
ReplyDeleteHahah, your first chapter is like a chapter off my life, if you replace "Bjarni" with "Ronan". Although this happened to me a few weeks ago, and we only went to the local in the village, not a lesbian bar. I think I need another outing soon! :)
ReplyDeleteMan, I am really upset that the Dick Turpin phase seems to have passed without my wife's noticing. The mask would have been especially kinky.
ReplyDeleteOver-accessorised? I am sure you looked more like a successful highwayman, which is even better again.
ReplyDeleteShoes are always a good way to cheer yourself up. It's just a shame that one can't wear multiple pairs for extra cheering-ness.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you looked glamorous, sophisticated and just a little bit dangerous-and-eighteenth-century as you sashayed round Temple Bar (or not - I have rubbish Dublin geography...)
I'm with Chris. How did I miss the female highwaywomen fashion phase, or to be precise, how did it miss California. Glamorous tends not to happen in San Francisco, every one is way too comfortably dressed for that.
ReplyDeleteAnyhow, hope the things that are not better things get better soon, and the good things get gooder!
Um, I still have those boots, too. Mine are from 1983. Is that sad?
ReplyDeleteNothing ever really goes out of style, you know. If you wait long enough, it all makes a repeat, and if you've thrown it out, your daughter will curse you for it. At least mine did.
How on earth did you end up in a Lesbian bar in Dublin?
ReplyDeleteThe Front Door on Parliament Street.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it's not a lesbian bar, maybe it just happened to be chockablock full of lesbians the night we were there? Although Bjarni said it was like that when he went there before, too (which is why he wanted to go again, I would guess). Maybe it's just him. Maybe as soon as he walks into a bar women try to "titillate" him.
I will post pics of my heely Dick Turpin boots soon.
Um, I mean The Front LOUNGE, not the Front DOOR. I'm obviously thinking of something else.
ReplyDeleteWas going to ask about the lesbian bar as well. Especially Bjarni taking you there.
ReplyDeleteYou have all my sympathies on the family stuff front. Argh! Me, I couldn't keep my dirty laundry off the internet, but that's okay because lots of good has come out of that. But I can definitely see how it might have a downside.
I once had a pair of black leather thigh high but flat-soled lace-up fuck me boots, bought in Copenhagen. I moved countries and stored said boots in a box in my friend's garage. When I felt the urge to wear them again, my friend informed me that some critter had taken a liking to my footwear and chewed up one of the boots...
ReplyDeleteThe Front Door is in Galway, maybe you were thinking of that.
ReplyDeleteAlways enjoy reading your blog - I hope you cheer up soon. Can't go wrong with a Bjarni :-D
ReplyDelete