I couldn’t help myself…

Lets blame low self esteem? Or maybe attention deficit disorder? Anything is better than me thinking I’m still in love with Family Friend. As previously exposed he has no interest in me as relationship or relationship material and therefore I am setting myself up for heartbreak if I don’t move on with the rest of my life. Saying that of course, he is a photographer and inspired by recent trip to see some art I’m back to taking naked selfie’s, (which I’m sure give it 30 or so years may become some form of art) and he’s a great person to show them to for “feedback”.

Or to be blunt for me to find out if they turned him on… oh dear. I has been doing so well. So well… 🙄😬

The Sideboob – less is more all the way…

I order a dress online based on the positive reviews about it. It’s metallic pink. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything.

The only part of the dress that looks good, is the fact it shows off a delicious bit of ‘side boob’. Yes. The only thing I like about this dress is the fact that as part of it’s cut, it showcases one piece of my flesh. The rest of the dress makes me look pregnant and although, yes, I would love to be pregnant with Family Friends child, if you aren’t carrying a miracle baby (as any pregnancy would be for me because of my health) then to be frank, you don’t want to look as though you are addicted to doughnuts.

I desperately want to love the dress. I heard a program on Radio 4 where the stylist said, that the go-to thing for Glastonbury was a ‘metallic dress’. And when I heard this, my heart cried out for joy as most glittery shiny clothing has an age cut off of 10 so for adult ware to catch up? I was overjoyed.

Flash forward to now and I am standing here in my ‘dream’ metallic dress and I look ridiculous. Luckily, despite my autoimmune disease which fatigues me enormously and my immune suppression which make me more susceptible to infection, I do have access to social media, so if in doubt, ‘Ask your friends’. I post some pictures online and wait.

Out in the real world, there are real problems happening. Don’t I know it. I’ve been on the front line of illness and stepped a little too close to the front line of risk in health. But now, in a moment of slight relief, I relish this silliness. This emphasis on nothingness. On fashion and folly. On ‘side boob’. On a body, I’m bloody lucky to still have.