Fashion Faux Pas

My idea of fashion may be of some peoples idea of hell.

Nil taste. Nil style. Nil clue.

I know it Christmas when I manage to wear a pair of matching socks (usually been given by a relative....one which doesn’t really know what to get me, and if they knew me at all, they would soon realise I DON’T WEAR MATCHING SOCKS) I should be grateful really, nothing worse than opening your present to find a pen. A pen with my name on. Like I don’t fucking know my own name already!

I could compare my fashion disasters with natural disasters. Major(ly wrong) sight for sore eyes and unexpected.

The inspiration behind the title for this blog, as you may have guessed, is the day I wore odd shoes to work... you may be asking yourself did I get dressed in the dark? No! Did I do it on purpose? No! Did I close my eyes when I grabbed them out of the box? Maybe. And for those fashionistas reading this...yes I do keep my shoes in a box.

3 hours into my working the day, washing my hands in the loo, the fashion Gods must have spoke to me as before I left the cubicle, for some weird reason I decided to look down at my feet. Oh. Dear. Lord.

My shoes. Odd Shoes. Two different shoes. Feck.

I had two options... A) I could not say anything to anyone and hope to God that no-one would notice...or B) Tell everyone and hope that someone has a spare pair of shoes in work with them! Ok so you definitely know I chose the latter.

I left the toilets and luckily there was a girl walking past, I decided to walk directly mirror image behind the girl...because obviously everyone would be staring at my feet  :/ Once back at my desk it took approximately 30 seconds before my whole team knew. I suppose it may not help that I work for one of the UKs biggest online retailers...a company which focus heavily on Fashion.

From then on it could only be natural to follow this disaster up with another, and another, and another.

My phobia of opening yoghurts derived from my lack of ability to open them without yoghurt flying onto my face/desk/leg/chair/keyboard/colleague. Every lunch, the time would come for the opening of my yoghurt, along the row it would go for the lucky sod who got to open it. One busy day at work, desk dinner it was. I had a quick meeting scheduled in at lunch but luckily they brought along their lunch too. My last mouthful of salad was quickly inhaled when I remembered about my yogurt situation, I decided to man up and open the yogurt myself. I told the girl about my ‘phobia’ and proceeded to open it.

Sliiiiiiide and rip. It was off. Not one splish. Not one splash. Not a drip of yoghurt in sight. I go on to do a little and im talking two steppin kinda celebratory dance when SLAP the lid is on my leg. ON MY LEG. ON MY FUCKING LEG. and let me tell you people...it did not look like yogurt on my leg. 

The phobia remains an issue. The disasters are still apparent. And my wardrobe consists of years full of memories but non which will not appear in Grazia anytime soon!

Doppelganger Day

With football season upon us, the WAGS are out in force. There is so much hype around the Wives and Footballers in the UK we forget about the boys playing with their balls.

It got me thinking about my time on placement when I had the chance to become a WAG. Ok, total bollocks. But this is how the story went...

Quite happily sat at my desk on a sunny Friday morning when my phone rings...

“Hi, is this Alice? You have been nominated for the WAG look-a-like competition, and you have won as Abbey Clancy, please can you come down and collect your prize.”

Bear in mind, I am a short, voluptuous lady with red hair. Not exactly your average beauty queen. My team thought it would be amusing to put me forward for the look-a-like competition knowing we couldn’t be any further apart looks wise.

My initial thoughts?? WTF!!!!

Panic sets in at the thought of having to collect my prize and the puzzled looks I will receive. So wasting no time, I set off to the canteen with a few followers from my team who wish to witness their sneaky prank...

I walk over to the lady and one of the girls on my team tells her we are here to collect the prize for Abbey Clancy, so she looks over at me “Ooooh yeh, congratulations” again...WTF! She ruffles around in her bag grabs a goody bag, and starts to walk over. By now am starting to analyze myself in my head, okay so my nose is a bit wonky and I have enough freckles to look cute, minstrel coloured eyes...but a model???

She walks straight past me. Like a ghost. Cold. Heartless. Bitch. Ok she wasn’t to know that the midget had come to claim the prize by accident, but the fact I had to move out the way so she could place MY prize in the hands of blondey. Like a stab in my heart (slight exaggeration).

Didn’t want to be a model anyway!!!

PC Plod

So after finally starting my blog, I knew it wouldn't be long until inspiration for a post would come along....

Friday Night, after a long dreary week at work, I am off into town with the girls and my friend Dave to celebrate his new job. As per usual we are out for a 'few quiet ones' a quote which usually ends with 3 girls missing, one producing their tea in the toilet and so many tequilas we automatically become break dancers appearing in a dance video.

A few i.e. 10 vodkas later and I'm feeling in a flirtatious mood. Anything with a pulse needs to steer clear. I decide to stop and try my chances with three clearly underage police officers, looking all fresh faced and more to the point sober. Please stop me. Here. I suddenly feel the need to tell the youngest looking one, he looks like a tiger in bed. Kill me now.

My chance comes when one of them asks if I will fill in a form for a lost or stolen phone, I decided that either they are passing the time, or cheeky cheeky hes trying to get my number. Of course it was neither as they proceed to ask all of my friends. I laugh it off. The morning draws in as we leave the club at 6.

Waking the next day, my eyes glued together, I wake to find the police officers has added two not one, two of my friends on Facebook. Brilliant. Next time maybe.

I wonder if there is a ‘how to’ for fabulous flirting? I need to get me some.