Good Friday? Surely this has been freakin’ fantastic Friday.

I hate going shopping especially for clothes. I get an anxiety attack and end up running away with nothing. It wasn’t always like that but then it’s never been something I enjoy.

I remember once when I lived in London I was in a boutique with my skinny sister looking for a dress for her, I was a massive (joke) size 16 the time. The two assistants stood whispering as I browsed through the dresses looking for something else my sister might like while she tried a couple of things on. I knew what they were thinking, it was unlikely they stocked above a size 14 in there. I continued to browse and they continued to look at me with scorn, whisper to one another, giggle. So I started walking up to the mirrors and holding ridiculously small items in front of my body as if I was actually considering them for myself. Eventually one of the assistants (who as it turned out was wearing a badge announcing her as Barbara – Proprietor) approached me and took the item from my hand and more or less hissed “we only go up to a size 10 in this” and started to walk away. I called after her, “I don’t suppose you do this one in F*cking Massive do you?” holding up a jacket. I threw it onto the counter as I walked past and said “Kindly tell my sister when she comes out of the changing room that I am waiting outside because the terrible stench of rudeness in this establishment was overwhelming me”.When I saw my sister heading to the cash desk with an item I dashed back in store and grabbed the item off her, “Please don’t buy anything from here, I would rather pay three times whatever that dress is worth for you to buy one somewhere else” and we left.

But on a happier note, my daughter knows about my dislike of shopping and she knows how drab I am. Everything is black, smart work wear (black skirts, trousers, jackets, vest tops), casual wear (black jeans, leggings, skirts, tops, cardigans, coats), exercise wear (black leggings or sweats, black tee shirts), fancy wear (black dresses, black shrugs, black jackets, black skirts, black tops).  Even my pyjamas are all black.

So today she went out and came back with a whole heap of beautifully coloured clothes. She knows it would be a bridge too far to get me into coloured bottoms but she bought me a ton of coloured tops and they are all fabulous and all fit, she bought me some pretty coloured scarves and accessories and she bought me a couple of blazers, one in a delicious mint and one in a lovely coral colour and lovely low heeled court shoes to match each and hand bags, let me not forget the handbags also with splashes of colour to match my new shoes and blazers. Oh there is one really beautiful royal blue pencil skirt which I was unsure about at first but once it was on with a safe black top and jacket I was convinced.

She said she thought a splash of colour was in order now I had a brighter outlook and she hadn’t spent too much money, everything was high street and she told me that she would be happy for me to pass things on to other larger ladies who hate going shopping when I lose so much weight that they are too big for me.

I’m filling with tears again just thinking of how amazing she is. She did just the perfect thing to match my change of mood and she was so right, I feel a bit more colourful now. She showed me how much she knows me by choosing such lovely items which will help me cover all of my most offensive parts and that is not easy to do with my shape.

I modeled everything for her and she gave me her honest opinion and helped me style things with items I already have and we had such a giggle and I just love her. Oh and I’ve not worn any of my smart work wear for 2 weeks and I was so happy when my jackets fastened with room to spare and my trousers felt a little looser around the waist.

I’m a very lucky lady. It more than put right the annoyance at my friend’s insensitive comments earlier and gave me a tremendous boost.

It’s been such a fantastic day. Good Friday??? It need renaming.

I even allowed the taking of photos but I can’t bring myself to post them on here, maybe once I’ve chopped my head off them.