Day 21: whacking thighed and piping hot

 Today I’m wearing:

  • The Dress; 
  • my trusty Zara pencil skirt; 
  • Topshop blazer which came from the sales and I loved once but I’m not so sure now; 
  • tights on tights;
  • Doc Martens which no longer rub so I will wear every day for the rest of my life*
I hate wearing blazers. Really hate. I keep trying to like them but it’s just not going to happen. They severely restrict my arm movement. What if I need to reach for the sky? Or do some emergency lion taming? Don’t say “take it off”, I will not thank you for that.  
I didn’t actually wear the blazer much today, just to and from work. I spent most of the day sans blazer, but that would be a very similar outfit to another day this month and I just won’t do that to you. 
The DMs don’t rub! I’m so happy about this. I now love them unreservedly. Some of the toes on my right foot may be a little bit bloody from where I stubbed my toe inside the shoe, but these are hardcore muthas. It’ll just take a bit more time for me to fully dominate them. Show them who’s boss. Wear them into submission. I will be victorious.
Another gratuitous shoe shot. What can I say? I like the way they look.
So it’s World Poetry Day today. I’m not going to give you a poem. I’m going to give you a bit of a play by a poet. But it sounds like a poem.

When I can’t sleep or there’s too much happening in my head or I just need some words, I listen to this. Start at track 2. Close everything else off, the lights if you must, and just listen.

You know how you can get bits of a song stuck in your head so it’s all you think of, all you hear, all you dream about? That’s how I get about this poem-play. My current favourite bit is at track 3, 2:16.

“From where you are you can hear in Cockle Row in the spring, moonless night, Miss Price, dressmaker and sweetshop-keeper, dream of her lover, tall as the town clock tower, Samson-syrup-gold-maned, whacking thighed and piping hot, thunderbolt-bass’d and barnacle-breasted, flailing up the cockles with his eyes like blowlamps and scooping low over her lonely loving hotwaterbottled body.”

 She sounds like me. I also like the description ‘whacking thighed and piping hot’; reminds me of porridge.

I’m watching Sport Relief at the moment. They keep playing these films that tug on my heartstrings, and the work they do is fantastic.

But I’m going to ask you to remember my cause this evening. We’ve raised £402 for Womankind, and that’s so so brilliant. More than double my original target. There’s just £98 to go.

justgiving.com/caitlinsdress or ODOM50 £2 to 70070

Please; whatever you can give.

I do have another bit of news. A picture is worth a thousand words and all that:

This makes me very happy. Especially because I get to keep the uniform.

Cx

PS has David Tennant got a ponytail?!

*I may not actually wear them every day. I may not even wear them tomorrow. 

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