It's Curtains For You

After a hot tea and light supper of sardine toasties Meryl suggested we go out for the evening. I feigned illness. Why? Because she was still sporting a set of Laura Ashley curtains from the 80's, sorry Palazzo Pants. She took my temperature and assured me I was fine. I asked if she would not be a little nippy in such breezy trouserware and suggested she might like to wear a pair of my daughter's velour jogging bottoms. Anything would have been preferable to those pants. She laughed and shook her head. I insisted that she secure her swishy Palazzo Pants with bike clips so as to avert any nasty accidents with lift doors but she refused stating that it would create a harem trouser effect and besides we were only popping over the road for a 'quick one'. She meant a drink. So we set off into the night, her trousers dragging along in the detritus of the pavement. Thank goodness it was dark. The sight of the Mysterious Woman Of Floral Cloth could scare small children and give other woman strange fashion ideas. If she continues to dress like this I could happily say it's curtains for us!

Curtains

Its been four years since I had to lie to my wife about her crimes against fashion and yesterday I found myself in a similar predicament. Meryl swished by after work wearing what I can only describe as her Granny's best soft furnishings. Her bottom half was dressed in swathes of floral fabric, like a hideous tribute to Laura Ashley. I stood in the corner of the kitchen quietly grimacing whilst my daughter paid her compliments a plenty on 'the new maxi length'. I felt I was missing the point, here was my lovely girlfriend dressed in a pair of curtains - why? As turned to make the tea I heard a gasp from my daughter. I hoped the offending item of clothing had been shredded by the cat but I looked back to discover that Meryl had revealed it wasn't a set of curtains after all. Or a skirt. It was trouserware. I must have let out an audible shriek as Meryl asked my opinion on her 'Palazzo Pants'. I nodded silently and went back to brewing up, secretly hoping they get caught in the door later.

hallucinogenic elephant

What is it with women and fashion? One week they're wearing skirts up to their belly buttons, the next they're sporting long swishy numbers to hide their cankles. When I was married to 'she of the acid tongue' I was regularly forced to compliment an array of bizarre outfits that wouldn't have looked out of place in Angie Watts wardrobe. She had a penchant for garish colours and taffeta, and often combined the two in a double onslaught of fashion homicide. She thought jumpsuits in shocking pink were flattering, though she looked more like a hallucinogenic elephant. And her hair was a nest of bleach blonde highlights, glued together with Elnett. Every morning I would smile meekly as she paraded around in her latest ensemble. I was too scared to tell her the truth, in case she turned nasty and 'accidently' threw out my favourite book or hid the biscuits.

Boredom

Since ending my affair with Pat my life has slipped back into it's usual humdrum rhythm. Work every morning, swimming twice a week and of course my weekly slot at Portland FM. Meryl is away on a modelling assignment, she phoned me last night and told me she's been modelling back support pillows and comfy toilet seats. We still haven't kissed and she seems to be showing more than a passing interest in my friend Piers. Ho-humm.