Day 27: grey skies are just clouds passing over

Today I’m wearing:
  • The Dress;
  • that old Zara pencil skirt I’m so fond of;
  • satin Topshop blouse that is such an awkward length, I can only assume it’s meant to be cropped.

If there was a word for today, it would be ‘grey’. The sky was grey, the light was grey, I felt grey. And I had a tuna sandwich at my desk for lunch, so I suppose my lunch was grey too. You know it’s bad when even your meals are grey. These days happen, and I know they pass, but my word, I feel sunless.

The parcel I got home to couldn’t really have been better timed. In this pixelated world, the simple act of putting things in an envelope can make people feel so much better. Much less grey. My friend Fi lives in Glasgow (South Side, where the grown-ups are) and she sent me some Tunnock’s Tea Cakes, a book and a plant in a can. She knows me well. With regards to the tea cakes, I feel tonnes better for eating a delicious biscuit base, topped with marshmallow and smothered in real creamy milk chocolate. I’m sorry to break this to you, but they may not last the evening. Especially since they got a wee bit squashed at the hands of Royal Mail, and the kindest thing to do is to eat them. Put an end to their suffering.

Last night was excellent. I swear Franz Ferdinand must be sleeping in cryogenic chambers or summat (the band, not the Archduke) because they don’t look a day older than they did 9 years ago. Whatever it is they’re doing, I bet L’Oreal would be interested. I have to say, they seemed a lot happier than they did last time I saw them. Much more wiggly hipped and pouty lipped, and that’s always a good thing. I didn’t take any pictures, because I don’t like people waving their phones about at gigs; it’s risky and you’re not watching the band, you’re watching a screen. I also read that the act of taking pictures of something reduces your memory of it, which I think about when I go to photograph some special moment. Often my memories are better than the photos.

I came home to the news that father has an iPhone. He said that all the other journalists were laughing at his BlackBerry,  which he conveniently ‘forgot’ somewhere in South Africa, and it was to save professional face. That’s as good an excuse as any, and probably true somewhere along the line. He wants to get a holster for it- I’m yet to explain the concept of ‘cool’ to him- and is excitedly exploring the prospects of apps. I’m very happy for him and not at all jealous. My Sony Xperia is totally fine, and doesn’t keep crashing or freezing when I make phone calls. And there isn’t a glitch in the music player which puts Lonesome Polecat on loudspeaker at odd intervals. I could do without ‘I’m a lonesome polecat, lonesome, sad and blue’ blasting out of my coat pocket. Maybe I am a lonesome polecat and my phone just knows me very well. But that doesn’t mean I’m jealous of the iPhone at all.

I remembered when I first did One Dress One Month, I did an action shot every day, and how it made me quite happy to jump around a bit. So here, for old time’s sake, is tonight’s action shot:

Just 4 days to go. And it’s payday tomorrow. You know what that means? Donation time!

All of this is for Womankind. Every bit of money raised will go to help real women with real problems in a real world. By donating just a fiver, you can change someone’s life. Think about that. or ODOM50 £5 to 70070

I’m going to try and cheer up a bit now. I think I might need to go to bed early. Maybe with a book. We’ll see. Let’s not go crazy now.


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