fashion victims

As part of my “take some fucking pride” campaign with myself, I have been taking an extra maybe 5 minutes in the morning to get ready. I can just about wear my pyjamas to work if I so wish, if I'm not out and about interviewing people. It would be dumb to wear my PJs, sure, but the thought crosses my mind every single day, as I awake to this cruel, cruel world.

I once dressed up when I had a hangover. You know, put my face on, threw on some earrings. And I swear my hangover was slightly less excruciating. So, I'm putting in almost as much effort with my general wardrobe in the mornings, as I do when I go out at night this year. No more just jeans and a jersey. And I'll actually brush my hair.

It's funny how our fashion foibles control how we leave our houses. No really. For instance:

I feel bi-polar if I put my bangles on both arms. They must either be on one arm, all chunky, and many, or I won't wear them at all. Martha Stewart has to wear a bangle on each arm, or gets panicked.
I never wear dangly earrings and a necklace at the same time.
I don't leave the house without at least one over-the-top ring on one of my fingers.
If it's white – and I have a lot of white in my cupboard – it's nearly always cotton.
I don't wear a watch anymore.
Pink and red together makes me feel like I'm tripping - in a a good way. If it clashes, I'll probably end up having a productive day.
The only nail polish I wear is red. On my fingers. They've been red since June last year. I'm naked without the red.

I honestly feel very out-of-sorts if this dressing ritual isn't kept to. Perhaps I'm obsessive compulsive. Do other women do this?

In other news, I'm a cheap date now. And 747 is also a cheap date, so really, it's a win-win situation.

For example, dinner at a restaurant last night:
medium rare steak, drizzled in pepper sauce, potatoes, and sauteed veggies A falafal.
Three gin and tonics A tonic water with ice and lemon.
A bottle of Fat Bastard (the shiraz) A tonic water with ice and lemon.
Creme brulee Five thousand packets of sweets, (body parts, fireball jawbreakers, watermelon gummies) and eight chocolates.
Filter coffee Green tea
A movie maybe, something light hearted like Horny Housewives 2 – The Uncut Version A documentary on the Crime & Investigation channel on the abduction of Pakistani children. Depression, how you old friend?

Total: around R500 around R200.

We both having a problem with outrageous sugar cravings and stuff at the moment. Can't get enough, and I'm not a chocolate person. Usually I go months without chocolate quite happily. So this is a bit strange.
This weekend will be the Big Test. It's been 11 days of Sobriety Club. But with housewarmings and dinners heralding on the horizon, the weekend nights are when Sobriety Club will seem overrated.
But I'm feeling so clear of mind and so full of restraint, you don't wanna fuck with me. So drink away in front of me – I can't wait to see what I (used to) look like after 8 tequilas.