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Too much of a good thing?

June 17, 2012

Anyone who knows me even slightly cannot fail to be aware that I like colour and pattern. I will even admit that I can  be slightly obsessive about finding the exactly the right colour or patterns.

On Tuesday there was definitely far too much of a good thing. I wore one of my favourite tops. I like the green base colour which is flattering and I like the way it hangs. It does not fit as well as it used to because I have lost weight (no bad thing) and I suspect if I continue to lose weight (and I plan to) I’ll have to stop wearing it because it is already loose and if I get any smaller it will hang off me like a sack.

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I also used my pink bag, Mum bought it back from Florida for me last December. She thought it was bright and cheerful and would cheer me up. I like the bag it swallows quantities of junk and effortlessly takes my book, water bottle, lunch, camera, mobile, inhaler, knitting, notebooks, pens, diary, make up bag, hairbrush, another book – just in case, umbrella etc to work. I need many things to make it through commuting and a whole day cooped up in the office. It does not look too bad with the top. Possibly a little too much pattern but the colours blend – just about.

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But it rained. It’s rained rather a lot recently hasn’t it. There was sufficient rain that I was compelled to give in and use my umbrella. I do not like umbrellas, they are not hugely effective as rain shields and invitably turn inside out at the most inopportune moment. I particularly hate this umbrella. It is the umbrella of hideousity that refuses to die.

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I have had many umbrellas in the last 18 months. A pretty blue one with pastel stripes which got caught in a gust of wind and a strut snapped. That was the end of that. Then there was the black one with bright coloured stripes. That got caught in a car door and refuses to fold down properly. Then there was the sophisticated grey one which lasted a full week before the gale force winds a week ago twisted it in to a useless spiral. However the bright red tartan monstrosity of unknown origin has been around since forever and it does not die. When desperation forces me too I retrieve it from the drawer I buried it in and use it to prevent me arriving at work like a drowned rat and or succumbing to pneumonia.

Now imagine that brolly carried in combination with my pink bag while wearing that top. Fortunately I could not see myself but the mere thought caused me physical pain. I was afraid I was as nauseating a sight as the commuter I saw a month ago who was wearing a purple skirt, mustard tights, navy boots and a red mac. That combination actually hurt my eyes.

You will be relieved to know I now have a new brolly and the tartan horror has been consigned back to the depths of the drawer. I also have a new mac. Patterned of course but I think it will blend with rather than shout at my other possessions. I hope it will anyway.

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2 Comments
  1. katherinea permalink

    Keep the tartan ones out with the winds we’ve been having recently. It might die.

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