Today I wore a Sunday outfit. And yes, right you are, today is Friday.
This is not like me at all; I tend to be very mindful of the week’s day when selecting an outfit.
If you are not sure what a Sunday looks like sartorially, either scan further below, or read directly on: for me, it’s based about the blessed ‘ralls, teamed with Converse kicks, white tee and comfy knit on the torso, and a beret sitting atop. Obviously.
Admittedly, I was in lace knick-knacks which do not scream Wear Me Sunday, but kill me, my Great Love leaves presently.
Today I was off work, the GL off the boat, and so we had a hire car and had planned a day at the seaside where we would eat our body weight in scallops. We ended up doing it (eating our body weight) in scones.
Rewind to the post-shower hour of the day and I wailed to the GL I was not sure what to wear. Ever practical he advised, something comfortable, you’ll be in a car all day.
I thought, yes you’re right and knew my denim skirt and white tights (with the eventual top half) would be a perfect Friday Exploring the Seaside look.
The skirt, though, was (inextricably) tighter than on its last outing. I had a vague idea it was directly linked to my food intake and knew that it definitely would not lend itself to a long drive.
So I heeded his style advice, chose my new faves, which you will be familiar with by now, and off we drove.
I was indeed comfortable all day. I ate more than I wanted to. I slouched in my seat. I didn’t have a care in the world about the mud I schlepped through. Even had a return kip. The denim skirt wouldn’t have allowed for that, no matter how Friday it was.
But was I happy? On the inside? No. Of course not. And when I told the GL this, he appeared baffled first and slightly scoffish second. I suspect he thinks me bananas. But he is wrong, I am perfectly sane, I was just dressed for the wrong day of the week.