I feel engulfed by the spirit of Janet Jackson as my forage for lunch transmutes to a forage for a more fitting substitute for my stockings. Apparently, my hip municipal school girl look (boob flashing dress hidden under a t-shirt, rounded off by sneakers) of this morning was not so much a horrendous wardrobe malfunction as a wise decision, as a 30 second swap from t-shirt to jacket turns into a flasher film. Luckily, the ladies loo is empty as I tug fabric back into place and button up. As long as no one is sitting right next to me when I lean forward a tad, I should be safe from any obscenity citations. But wait... what is this I feel? Another trip to the ladies reveals why the pretty suspender belt I acquired is, well, just pretty. Soft and sexy, it's no match for the lace stopped stockings that insist on dragging it down. Obviously today was not a good day for dressing like a normal person. I suppose I should be glad that my worries are now confined to not leaning in too far while inspecting the vast array of sheer, supportive, ladder resistant, cooling, open toed tights, stockings and hold ups.....
Ah. Perhaps succumbing to a size too large in the line of DK just because it was on sale and so awfully pretty is a lesson to be learnt.
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