Get the party started...

It's the Binland Christmas party tonight, and much of this week has been spent wondering what to wear.

Stupidly, I involved the husband in this discussion, and his only input was, 'Well, I have every confidence that you will find something in that clothes cave of yours'.  Clothes cave?  I think he turned right instead of left, and caught a glimpse of his side of the wardrobe, where floor hanging is obligatory and nothing makes sense.  Unlike my wardrobe which is arranged according to type of clothing, and then further whittled down to colour.  

Anyway, I thought long and hard as to what would be appropriate for our night out.  All I know is that there is food, alcohol and music involved, so it had to be something which would travel down the early evening to midnight road without causing too much trouble.  But as is always the case, there are roadblocks on the way, and Things To Avoid.

First question was trousers or dress?  Because of the nature of my work, I tend to wear a lot of trousers and leggings, so I decided that a dress was better as it would prove to all my colleagues that I actually have legs.  But there again, my legs have seen better days ( who am I kidding, they have never had a GOOD day in fifty five years) so a longer dress would be better.  This would also mean that I would not risk the whole 'mutton' look. 

Something ladies of a certain age should avoid at all times.

This whittled the choices down to four frocks.

One was discarded because it was too big (hooray).

Another would have meant revealing my knees to an unsuspecting audience, and no one wants that.

The third one left my scarred, bruised, flabby, pimpled arms on show, and I'm not sure an angora shrug would be practical at our venue (where we are going is rather suspect, and I would be worried that the chef might think that my fluffy bingo wing concealer would be something worth flambeing...)

Which left my favourite dress as my only option.  Red, mid calf length, long sleeved and lacy.  Perfect.

Hanging it up on the wardrobe door yesterday morning, I said to the husband, 'That's what I'm wearing to the Christmas party tomorrow'.

And do you know what he said?

'You'll look very smart my love'.

Smart probably wasn't the look I was aiming for.  If I had been, I probably would have worn a three piece suit and a pair of brogues.

But hey, at the giddy age of fifty five, I suppose I should be grateful...