über chic
July 28 my elegant, engaging and deliciously über chic friend,
I was determined not to add another misadventure to an unfortunate list
of fashion faux pas.
Oh yes, I have a history, dear friends, my appointments with chic often resulting in diabolical derailings of the worst kind.
While it is true that I am a fey and whimsical creature, you should find it no surprise that I seek comfort in elaborate masquerades after some of the blunders I have made...
Costumes aside, I did make every attempt yesterday to avoid this faux pas horror, conscious of the fact that this was my special moment, yet another in the continuing series of celebrations that have hitched a carriage to My Birthday Love Train.
Following my disheveled hair disaster of Tuesday's lunch date with the delectably smooth tressed Melinda and the goddess of tumbling waves, Simone, I was determined to meet my dear and fashionable friend in a manner unruffled, sophisticated, perhaps even with Zen-like calm.
It is fair to say that, given previous horrors, an almost unholy amount of time was thus spent on The Mane, managing, manicuring, meticulously moulding it into shape before I left the house. I was taking no chances. My hair is flyaway at the best of times. A little wind and it has threatened to take off.
Yet, catching sight of myself in the mirror I was wholly pleased.
Mmm...yes... almost unrecognizably chic, dignified in a most delectable manner, perfectly put together really. Über, even...
Well, perhaps just a little spray of Gloss and Fixx for the hair, the silk amino acids and super-hold-shine adding just the right amount of sheen to my tweaked locks, creating an elegance of hair both spontaneous and uncontrived.
"Ohh..."
The button depressed with gluggy reluctance, a feeble fart of dryness emitted with disinterest from it's nozzle.
"Come on," I growled. "Don't do this. Pleeease."
I levelled it at my head in grim determination, pressing repeatedly until, with all the violence I could muster, a final shake dispersed it's contents. Ah, yes. A few squirts about the head was all I needed, with just a little one here at the front.
"Oops."
Oh. I had pushed my luck.
"Shit."
With almost farcical contempt, and resembling Something Like Mary in all it's abject horror, the ejaculation that squirted from the bottle approached my frontal lobe in one long thin stream of sticky liquid, saturating my preened forelock and dribbling with determination down my head towards my left contact lens.
"Holy God and F*ck!" I spat. "F*cking f*ck and shit."
Chic demeanour shattered.
Breathing. Breathing. Zen-like calm.
I squeezed the glutinous hair. Oh. And whimpered. But moulded it, yes, in it's sticky hideousness, into a little curlicue, a fancy flourish, a pertness almost Zen-like in it's perfection.
Yes? Well, perhaps not...
But what else was there to do? It was time to go. I could care for it no longer.
I smeared the uninvited liquid from my face, blinked away residual sting from the eye and ran to my appointment with the love train.
While I am loathe to criticize the often cruel hands of Fate too loudly, I do wonder at times if there is an APB out on my arse, my karmic keister.
For it seems unduly harsh that an unruly wind should blow up just as I was exiting my car in the parking zone outside the hotel. It seems grossly unfair that just as I was recovering my balance, almost blown away by the fierce tempest, struggling vainly to smooth my rambunctious hair, that a ferocious rain fell upon my luckless form and wet me with such vigour that I entered the hotel, not only unappealingly windswept but sodden, my hair a violent and sticky mess upon my head, the detritus of Gloss and Fixx not only congealing with new vigour, but conjoining with the very elements themselves to slip with sinister intent into the mucous membranes of my left eye.
I entered the restaurant bedraggled and beleaguered. A sorry sight. And I knew this before even seeing myself, for I am a sensitive soul and I detected smirks and one sincere look of sympathy from the waitress.
Flat, congealed hair. Red eye, blinking.
I knew I was horrible. Über horrible.
Quite unexpectedly, it turned out I was early as well.
I sat at the table, blinked my eye, fluffed my shirt, fingered my hair and waited for my friend, who arrived unruffled and dry.
For it appeared the tempest had passed. Of course.
I looked outside.
There was a gentle wind on the water and no rain.
"Happy Birthday Claire!" squealed Caroline, "You look gorgeous."
I'm quite certain I did too.
Perfect.
Über even.
Of course...
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Reader Comments (30)
Even with windblown hair, extra hair gloss and a few raindrops you were, I'm sure, a vision to behold. When she said you looked gorgeous she was telling the truth. Hope your birthday week was wonderful.
just goes to show you , my dearest,, that your beauty shines from within.. i have never laid eyes on you,, and to me,, you are the most breathtakingly beautiful woman i have ever met....
Thank you darling Theresa!!
A bit of tweaking in the bathroom and I was mostly restored to my former glory - and I couldn't help but see the funny side.
In hindsight I should have gone in weatherproof bondage gear with gimp mask!!
My birthday love train continues on it's journey with three more stops next week before it all becomes old news!!
xoxo
Oh darling Paisley, you are a treasure indeed.
I fully agree that beauty shines from within and I like to think that mine, like yours, dear friend, is kaleidoscopic and multi faceted...
We can do what we like to the outside but it is the beauty within, or an unfortunate 'otherwise' that determines whether we are truly beautiful or not...
xoxo
I'm sorry Minx. I laughed my head off when I read this. It's hilarious!
I know you would've looked gorgeous, wet or not.
Were you wearing a tshirt?
Eddie! You have a Hooter's mentality.
She would have been wearing the sheerest pale lavender blouse, low-cut, revealing a delicate necklace of the finest gold, embellished with tiny rubies and diamonds. A cream linen mini skirt and low 3 1/2 inch heeled sandals.
Eddie, this isn't a wet-T-shirt kind of woman. She is high class all the way.
Sorry!
I will remove my mind from the gutter. Minx knows me too well to take any offence, isn't that right, Minx?
Isn't it? You're a good mate, Theresa. And you're right too.
You are a cheeky wretch, Eddie...
But this was no wet t shirt competition...although the elements did conspire against me in a most provocative fashion..
My outfit was most discerning and not the least bit tawdry or of a stretchy fabric.
I wore a cream silk sheer blouse with a gentle ruffle at the neckline, black silk paddington shorts (a little longer and slightly puffy) with black stockings and black boots. I wore gold jewellery with a delicious Broome teardrop pearl. In hindsight, it should have been a black pearl because I was almost channeling Jack Sparrow in my ambience...
xox
PHew!!!!!!!! :) And was lunch yummy too?
I cannot stop thinking about a wet Minx.
Bonne anniverasire ma Minx domestique.
Hope you had a good birthday and am very glad to see you seem to be on the mend. I know you will have looked just fab!
Your loving Uncle
Norman
Jafabrit, the food was magnificent!! The wine too was sublime which, naturally, did much to soothe the beastliness of my entry..
Good food, good wine, excellent company..
While it may not have started out as such, the afternoon was, in fact, utterly and convincingly über...
xx
Neither can I, dear Likely, neither can I...
I was a compelling vision for many I'm afraid.
xx
Uncle Norman, darling!!!
Welcome home!! I have missed you!
Thank you for your kind wishes. The birthday celebrations continue unabated and I will raise my glass to your safe return!!
xoxo
I dont believe it! There is no way you could ever look remotely disheveled. You are stunning, breathtaking, enraptured in beauty like few I have ever known. (but it was a funny read!)
Minx ... Isn't it a bit hot outside for boots?
I am sure that you looked stunningly beautiful dear Minx! windblown hair is sexy :)
Darling Meleah,
You are too kind...I have slipped in a few of my own faux pas more than once.
This particular incident was not really such an an instance but more a conspiracy of forces.
Ah, but the minx is nothing if undeterred.
Nothing a glass of wine can't fix and some quick finger waving of rambunctious hair...
xx
Theresa darling,
You know I live on the other side of the world to you.
Where it is the middle of Winter!!!
Unfortunately accounting for the vile tempest of the other day...
In fact there is a severe weather warning today so if you don't hear from me, you'll know that something horrible has ha
Darling Lady Terri,
Windblown = sexy
Sodden + Product Ridden = sad
Product Ridden Eye = very bleak...
:(