Fashion Victim

My postion as Sunny Mountain Street's resident fashionista is fast unraveling. How can this be, my fashion CV is to die for?. I was the first person to introduce flourescent lycra and leg warmers to a certain Worcestershire village (it`s still too dangerous for me to go back) and I knew Calvin Klien when he was just plain old Kevin Small, operating his bespoke pants business from above a chip shop in Tipton.



But it's all going pear shaped. First there was the incident of the ladyboy jumper. Regular readers will remember that my manly equalibrium was unsettled when I saw a woman buying a jumper I had my eye on. Well I can no longer wear that jumper in public, it`s simply not worth the risk.



So I found a new jumper. Really liked it. Then at a recent party where I was wearing my new favourite jumper two people said "oh you`re wearing your Christmas jumper". I was devastated. Thats another one for indoor use only.



Today I was walking past the Town Brothel when I was jeered by the penniless old Italian men who gather there to lick the windows. The semi naked girls in the windows don`t seem to mind them and it saves on the window cleaning bill. Anyway, the old gits thought my red drainpipes and winkle pickers highly entertaining. Normally I would just turn and give them a withering stare, and they would run away giggling, Italians do that. But yesterday the wife told me I was too old to wear my jeans turned up a la Morrissey. My confidence is shattered. I just skulked off home and had a little manly cry.


Moving on, the Christmas party season is upon us and I thought that there is no reason why I, as a worker, should not have a Christmas do with the boss, or the daughter as she is otherwise known. I am in the process of organising a full sit down meal at local mid range eatery with secret santa gift giving thrown in to spice up the proceedings. Oh, wonder what I will get?.



The daughter has just informed me that she can`t make the Christmas party after all as she has to wash her Barbie`s hair that night. No secret santa for me then. Just as well really, I have absolutely nothing that I can wear out now.