I have a funny story to tell.
Yesterday I went to The Clothes Show in Birmingham with Shannon (@shannonjadeod on everything, check her out). It was a fabulous day, as expected - expectations were high. I fell in love (who needs a real marriage) with the vintage boutiques. I bought the sassiest, most man-repelling pair of toothpaste earrings. Hold out for a blog post dedicated entirely to the minty cause. Punny. We had Subways for lunch: crunchy and cool with sweet onion sauce, of course.
So that was all good. All so good.
Then, as we were comfortably seated in the middle of the row, we had to ask those middle-aged ladies ((you know the ones) - with the 500,000 shopping bags - to stand up so we could leave. I don't think they were very impressed; it was just about when the 10 topless male models came onto the stage - who knew, they seemed to be interested.
It was the most traumatic 5 minutes of my life. You have no idea.
Laugh now but picture me at 3.45pm yesterday and cry. CRY.
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