Unlike Dubai with its perpetually fine weather, the UK where I am currently residing (although not for much longer if I get my way) is much less predictable and even more changeable. You may have noticed my frequent references to the weather in my ‘confessions’ and most of the time I feel like it is my ultimate nemesis when trying to decide which shoes to wear in the mornings.
Last week me and the girls decided to have a well deserved reunion which I’m ashamed to say involved rather a lot of grape and even more bottles of fake tan. Pasty (a word I really can’t abide) is an understatement to the way my skin appears at the moment and having decided to wear a rather bright canary coloured dressI thought it better to improve my skin tone. The evening began well, bright skies (ish), intelligent conversation (read gossiping about people we were at school with) and a little bit of dancing (by that read A LOT). We were having so much fun it was way past my bedtime when we decided to call it a night.
Looking a lot less glam than when I arrived, we attempted to make our way to a late night eating establishment (takeaway). Well I say make our way, but in fact we were stopped by the HUMOUNGOUS snow blizzard that had swept in whilst we had been dancing away to the Harlem Shake. We stared out wondering if some time vortex had occurred, was it really still March? I’m just going to stop there for one moment and explain my full outfit to you, because not only was I wearing a bright yellow dress but I also had bare legs and a pair of suede platforms and NO COAT (fools error). We decided to brave it to the taxi ranch, linked arms and made a run for it. I don’t know whether you’ve ever been trapped in a snow storm whilst wearing an outfit in which you wouldn’t look out of place in Ibiza BUT its NOT COOL (well it is, its very cool, freezing in fact). Now I will say this once and once only but at that moment in time I utterly regretted having heels on (gasp, I know) but how the hell are you supposed to run quickly (or at all) to shelter from a snowstorm with gigantic platforms on?! Well the answer is you can not, instead I tottered precariously trying to dodge snow mounds (and failing miserably) and I’m surprised I didn’t break an ankle.
Much to my dismay the snow had nearly completely vanished the next morning (well it was more like early afternoon when I felt even remotely ready to get up) which meant many people didn’t believe me when I told them about the freak night time snowstorm. I spent most of that afternoon suspended in a harness half way up a climbing wall with monkey man (the new beau) with my feet jammed into a pair of miniscule climbing shoes, and to be honest I couldn’t have been gladder to be wearing flats.