OldQueenie - you can come and sit with me, I have untidy hair and skin distinctly unglowing at the moment.
Lovely to see you all, hags. I have just got in. Oxford Street knackered me by 2.00 this afternoon and I crawled off to the posh bar/resto at St P (next to Champagne bar). Got truly appalling service, complained vociferously and didn't get charged for one of my glasses of Champagne or my oysters. I was sending MI seething little texts as the afternoon went on. Woman on her own is clearly invisible to waiters, yes, even if that woman is my size.
I bought new jeans today too (and new bras and knickers) but mine were from the Fat Shop. However, I did heed MI's advice to buy something one or two sizes smaller than usual, and they do, err, fit much better.
(I have spent the last six months in a pair that actually work their way down to my knees and pull my pants with them, since my beloved Liz Claiborne jeans died.) They may well be regarded as "Mum Jeans" but I don't care.
I have been invited out tomorrow morning for breakfast at church, but am really knackered, so have declined the offer of Jesus and Kippers.