Blow-up

(pic from Warner Home Video)

Well, yesterday's photo shoot was an interesting experience. I'd forgotten (or blocked out?) that we were having full body shots as well as close-ups, so I wore a pair of pants that really aren't a great fit, too loose and not very flattering. I wore them because they're the right colour to wear with my camelhair jacket, but looking at the photos on screen afterwards made me decide that those pants Have To Go. I should have worn my grey jeans. If I edit my wardrobe any further I'll have to walk around in a dressing gown every time I do laundry.

I don't like having my photograph taken at the best of times. Standing in studio lights, being instructed to cant, smile, cross arms, etc, was bizarre. Fortunately the photographer was a lovely man, and most understanding that none of us (bar our illustrious and somewhat egomaniacal editor) really wanted to be there.

In the next couple of days we will be sent the photos so that we can choose which will appear in the mag and on our website. I asked if I could have an avatar.

Saturday Night Fever

Kid 1 recently accused us of having a social life. He may almost be right, as we were out on Saturday night, so I didn't cook. I'm almost starting to miss it, Saturday's festivities being the antithesis of the tedious, slapdash weekday dinner. I know some people consider cooking the evening meal a good way to wind down from the work day, but it doesn't feel that way to me - I feel like it's just another thing on my endless 'to do' list. Perhaps I need to shift my perspective.

Today I am trying to finish writing an article on Islamic finance. It is a lovely spring day outside, and I'd much rather be mucking about in the garden, or doing yoga, or ... yes, I'd much rather be doing ANYTHING than working on this particular job.

Even worse, tomorrow we have a studio shoot for the magazine and I have to be photographed. What on earth will I wear? Just the thought is making my skin blotchy. I hope they are liberal with the Photoshop in post-production.

What Lies Beneath

I know some people are obsessed with underwear/lingerie. I'm somewhere in the middle - I would never wear non-matching bra & undies, but that's about the limit of my interest, most of the time.

A while back, I saw some very pretty underthings on someone's blog (can't remember which one) and I thought maybe it was about time I bought something with the emphasis on pretty rather than functional.

This morning, in my allocated 'you-may-spend-20-minutes-on-the-internet-before-you-start-working' time, I decided to check out the lingerie on net-a-porter.


I thought these were pretty. I almost choked on my tea at the price - (£247.83) and then I looked at the picture of the model wearing them. This is someone who is paid to look good in next-to-nothing and the underwear - to my mind - looks HORRID.




And these are adorable - but when on earth would I wear them? The matching bra is one of those ghastly 'half moon' things; the suggestion is to wear them with the matching cami for a 'boudoir pairing'.

So, is there such a thing as underwear that looks lovely by itself AND works under clothes? My fear of clothes shopping is second only to my fear of lingerie shopping - 'would you like a hand fitting that bra?' is, to my admittedly prudish self, one of the ickiest questions in the English language.

For now, it seems I will be sticking to practical undergarments.