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Saturday, 16 June 2007

Damage Limitation

There was nothing else for it, this morning I all but ran to Mayfair to place myself into the trusted hands of Nicky Clarke himself, in an effort to repair my shattered self esteem. The star preened, trimmed, sculpted, groomed and consulted. The senior colourist advised, blended, concocted and applied, and I am subsequently renewed, polished and considerably lighter in hair colour and bank balance. God I look stunning!

I popped into Eclipse as I tottered down Park Hall Road on my new Emma Hope wedges this evening, and severely punished James' Black American Express Card for my low morale. I have lost my appetite. I shall look amazing at Ascot this year, waif like - not a 'bingo wing' in sight. I purchased an amazing Gerard Darel strapy dress, and will wear stunning La Perla underwear beneath - deliberately exposing just a hint of expensive lace. My wonderful new Herald and Heart hat should look amazing. I can just about manage Ladies Day this year, James can hold court alone in his silly box. I couldn't give two hoots.

Oh dear. I still feel simply dreadful. Is it too early to open a bottle for the evening? I can't even bear to think of Wimbledon, and late June/early July is usually the hi-light of my entire year...(sniff).

4 comments:

Motheratlarge said...

Chin up, Dulwichmum! Bet you look just lovely.

Trixie said...

Who is James again? Is he the school caretaker? Maybe, the au pair has better taste than I thought.

And my lovely, it is never too early for a Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac 1996, especially when it belongs to someone else!

dulwichmum said...

You two girls! How you cheer me up! Thank you so much MotheratLarge - why after my spray tan, I practically looked like a lady like version of Liz Hurley"

Oh Trixie dear heart, James is my sad husband. Indeed, he is lucky I am not down in the cellar right now polishing off his fav Petrus, while chopping the arms off his suit jackets...

debio said...

just the therapy for all this stress, dm. I am so jealous of all the talk about Ascot and Wimbledon, and I've just missed Glyndebourne - I inhabit a cultural desert.....Never has 'all dressed up and nowhere to go' been more apt... Sniff