AUTHOR'S CORNER;

DRESS ME UP GIRLFRIENDS

Now over the years it is fair to say that I have changed and adapted to my surroundings.  I have relaxed my opinions about the world and toughened up on my morals all at the same time.  And going through marriage, pregnancies and rearing all those wonderful babies, I have somewhat grown; both mentally and physically!

Whereby my beating heart was ever so compassionate and kind has nurtured, cared for and looked after everyone around me, it seemed to have forgotten the most important person, the person who without none of this would be possible; me. basically, I have sort of forgotten that I too am a woman and not just a mummy and am deserving of looking good, (or so my friends have gently reminded me) even if my husband professes to be too mature and far too sensible to ever let something like my lack of sense of fashion come between us!  So I listened to my well meaning girlfriends and lost weight.  

Which was a brilliant thing to do, (on my part) as it left me feeling good about myself.  The only problem was, after years of looking like a mummy and comfortably hiding behind all that mummy weight, after losing the disguise weight, I was also rendered frumpy and with no real fashion sense!  My one saving grace?  I was a writer and my brain was what made me attractive.  Not so, disagreed my girlfriends, a real woman always looks sexy!  So in desperation I turned to my friends for fashion advice!  

BAD, BAD, BAD IDEA!

So we hit the high street in a military force, they took it in turns to hold onto my hand as though I was a child and could not be trusted to walk unaided, and the look of determination on their faces was enough to frighten any hardened Taliban soldier back into his mountain cave. These women meant business and they weren't taking any prisoners!

And what potentially was supposed to be a fun day out with the girls, was soon proving a trying and seriously scary one!  

My friends hail from different walks of life, they come from different countries and have different professions; teacher, gym instructor, fashion editor, nurse and housewife all looked at me with tilted heads and bemused expressions.  Surely I didn't look that bad? We stopped dead in the middle of the food court and their eyes became somewhat fierce and darkened.  'Now Sam,' said teacher, 'let's be looking at you,' she circled me like a hyena.  'You don't exactly give off the image of a writer do you?  I think you need a new bra!' she declared.  The others started circling.

'What's my bra got to do with it?' I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.  'You ought to do weight lifting you should!' said gym instructor as she reached out to touch.  'Get off!' I flinched.

Housewife stepped forward, 'You need to look sexy, sexy is always pleasing,' she suggested. 'Men like you better when you are sexy and feminine!' she affirmed.  'Tight pencil skirt, high heels and an uplifting bra, that'll do it!'  She smiled proudly.  'Excuse me,' I argued, 'there is nothing wrong with MY sexy!  My husband never complains!'

Fashion editor pushed her way through, 'Darling, Frumpy is so not you, I think Sam needs to do sophisticated, sophisticated is the new sexy darlings, she needs to look the part of a famous author!' she

looked me up and down and shook her head. 'I'm not a famous author,' I argued, feeling a bit irritated. 'I'm just an author, and I wouldn't say I was frumpy!'  I gave fashion editor a snake look and hissed quietly from behind gritted teeth.  

'But you do want to look good Sam?' asked nurse smiling sweetly at me.  'I don't think you are frumpy, maybe not so girlish, perhaps you ought to try girlish?' I folded my arms in objection 'I thought I was a girl!' I snapped. 'My husband thinks I'm very girlish!' I insisted.

'Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?' snapped nurse.  She sniffed the air in annoyance.  'This from Matron?' I snapped.

'I'll have you know nurses are supposed to be very sexy and girlish!' squealed nurse.  War had been declared between me and nurse; it was only going to get worse from there onwards.  

'Come on ladies,' said teacher.  'Let's not argue, we are all here to try and make Sam look better!'

'Try? Charming!' I snarled.                      'Come on Sam, you asked for our help, perhaps you should look chic, that always works for me!' she said.  I gasped and could hardly contain my outburst, 'You?' I protested. 'You work with kids, since when where you ever chic?'  Teacher looked at me crossly and sighed deeply, 'That is so childish!' she berated.

'Look girls,' said gym instructor, 'what Sam needs is to look young again, perhaps get with the times, look hip, look the business, be cool and hang with the crowd if you know what I mean?'  Gym instructor looked pleased with herself.  'Oh please,' I snarled, 'you're just as old fashioned and out of touch as the rest of us, you live in tracksuits!  And since when do you know anything about street talk?  And I really wonder why it is you all came with me, was it to help me or mock me?  Because so far between the five of you, you have deemed me unattractive, frumpy, boyish, unfashionable, outdated and in need of a new bra! I'll have you know I can be very elegant when I want to be,' I lied 

'Fine!' said gym instructor.  'If you feel that way?'

'Fine!' said teacher.

'Fine!' said housewife.

'Well, fine!' said nurse.

'Really?' asked fashion editor.

'Really!!' I snarled.

'Well then fine!' said fashion editor.

'Fine,' I said to fashion editor.  'Fine,' I said to the rest of them and watched as they turned on their heels and walked off.  

Charged with defiance and a surge of spite pulsating through my body, I went on a fantastic shopping spree by which I happily depleted all funds in my account!  And I did not stop until every last trace of their smirking faces had been erased from my mind, every pang of anger had been dissolved from my heart.  I shopped like there was no tomorrow, I shopped like I had been nominated for a book prize, I shopped like I had never shopped before; I shopped like a woman!!

All my new clothes hung beautifully and out of sight in my wardrobe, (luckily for me, my husband has his own wardrobe) and I felt a little foolish; because although I had dismissed my friends' unhelpful comments, in my wardrobe there hung Sexy, Sophisticated, Girlie and Chic!  Never to be seen in public, lest they think they've had an influence and my husband discovers where all the housekeeping had gone!  And when we eventually made up (as all good friends do) I put on my old jeans and black top (lest I lose face) and went round in humble form.  

The moral of the story of the story.... never let your friends take you shopping, they are not Gok Wang, he would have been far less cruel! 

AUTHOR'S CORNER;

BLOCKED FOR BABY BOY

My son came into the my study as I sat glaring at my blank screen, I had not even lifted a single finger upon the keyboard and my eyes were filling up with tears.  'I'm almost done,' said he to me as he kissed my head.  'Oh, come on,' he protested, 'you're too soppy!

Surely you're not going to make a song and dance about it all?  I'm a grown man mum, you've got to let me be.'  He put his hand on his hip in irritation.  'I'm twenty now, a grown up, you should be happy that I'm off from under your feet! And I can't see why it is you are so upset, i'm only off back to uni, and besides, you've had me here all summer!'

'So upset?' I answered bemused, 'is it wrong to miss my baby? I asked.

'I'm not your baby,' he snapped, 'I'm a man!'

'Not my baby?' I asked.  'If you're not my baby, how come I remember you so well?      

Like the day I brought you home from hospital, all wrapped in your little baby shawl; hands in mittens and head in hat, as you hiccuped in your first breath of the November cold wind.  I was so worried I would break you, I wouldn't change your nappy; thought I would snap your tiny legs off if I tried.  then your dad stepped in and showed me how.  Or the very first time I made you laugh; I played peek-a-boo with you for two hours straight, before you giggled!  Tried to get you to laugh for your dad in the evening,

you laughed your little heart out and we all fell about in hysterics!  And when your grandparents came round we showed them and they were so happy and proud.

Or that time you sat up unaided; I was so proud I must have taken a hundred pictures of you that day, got them developed and didn't have enough money to buy the groceries for the rest of the week!'

'Huh,' said son, 'sentimental baby stories; so I was a cute baby, what of it?'

'What of it?' I asked.  'You were much more than a cute baby boy; you were my baby, mine, my little boy!'  I said.  

'Oh mum,' he scolded.  'Look now woman, stop it!'

'But I was there when you took your first steps, I was there when you went to play school and you cried and cried because I had to leave you.  I cried all the way home and felt ever so guilty!  

I was there to hold your hand when you were frightened, kiss your head when you were sad, give you a hug when you were lonely!'

'Yawn, yawn,' mocked son, 'sentimental and emotional blackmail!'

'But it was me who took you to your first football practice, I waited in the car in the freezing cold!

'Yawn, yawn, mother!' said son. 'You're doing my head in!'

'It was me who took you for your first music lesson,' I said.  'I saw you through your very first crush!  Her name was ....' 

'Oh now stop it mum!!' he said.

'It was me who sorted out your broken heart, me who nursed you through colds and flu, me who helped you when you were unhappy, gave you good advise when you were unsure!  It was me who crept into your room when you were asleep to make sure you were okay, and it was me who held my breath when you sat your exams.'

'Oh mum, really?' he protested.

'It was me who saw you through your first true love, oh I was so touched by it all!' 

'Too far mother!'

'And you have the nerve to argue that you are my baby?' I asked.

'I'm only off to uni,' said he.  

'I know, and I'm so proud of you, you've made it this far, your second year already, look at you!'

'So why the drama?' he asked.

'No drama,' I said, 'just baby blues!'

'So I'll be off then,' he said.  'Will you be okay?'

'Of course I will,' I said.

'Well then smile woman!' he joked.

'I will,' I sniffed.

'Oh come on mummy,smile for your baby...'

'Come here baby!' I said.

AUTHOR'S CORNER;

COFFEE MORNING WITH THE (BITCHES) GIRLS!

Due to our busy lifestyles and change in demographics; my girlfriends and I have decided to move our so very cherished coffee mornings to Sundays, as this is when we could all guarantee that we would be free.  We, the group who had come together way back in the day when we were stood outside the school gates in our stained T-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, ushering our little tots into school and waving them a welcomed goodbye!  Lost and bored were we, with lost identities and a heap load of washing waiting for us when we got home.  With no purpose in life other than to serve the needs of our husbands and children and of course to watch morning television! Our salvation we found in coffee mornings, where we were free to be grown-up, to discuss issues other than nappies and the rising cost of milk.  Where we (if only for a brief while) put our best heels and frocks on and make-up on our faces and resembled women!  And those niggling questions or irritations in the back of our minds about self worth and whether or not we were still attractive, were discussed, analysed and answered by the sisters and put to bed; helping us grow in confidence.  

Fast forward a few lot of years and see how we have grown; each has found her niche and has proudly and successfully achieved what our mothers in-law had told us we would never achieve!  each going off and reassessing, evaluating and retraining to reach her gaol. Some chose profession, others chose domesticity, but whatever we chose, we chose out of solid conviction and not because it was thrust upon us, we chose our lives because we were strong enough to, because we helped each other grow and realise our potential.  We may have been wives and mothers, but we were also people, and that was what we held onto! 

WONDERFUL, RIGHT?  UMM, LOOK YEAH, PUT A BUNCH OF WOMEN TOGETHER AND WHAT DO THEY DO?  THEY START COMPETING!  LET ME SHARE.....

There we were on a sunny Sunday morning, sat in the teacher's house, she had retrained as soon as her youngest had hit primary school and was now teaching full-time at the local secondary. There was also the fashion editor who had taken a three year degree in journalism and managed to land herself a job in a well known women's magazine (who I will not mention, in case of any legal action) and was now sporting the latest fashions and the trendiest hairstyles! There was the gym instructor,

she was always the sporty one amongst us and after losing a good four stones in her local gym, had taken up the study of sports science and landed herself a job as an aerobic teacher at a well known gym (whose name I shall decline to mention, in case of legal action) and left her husband for the local football couch!  There was the housewife; she was a housewife out of choice and not out of necessity, as she had so fiercely pointed out on more than one occasion, and did we know that her life's work was of the utmost importance?  

How else was she give her family and husband the support they so needed?

She had come to that decision (she says) all on her own!  Then of course we had the nurse, whom after many years of procrastinating with a chemistry degree to her name, had decided to retrain and put her intellect to good use! And last, but of course, by no means least, there is me the writer!  Mine is the life choice most mocked, most dismissed and considered least worthy by the group.  After all what is writing if but a whimsical indulgence for the bored and the lazy?  Though it is quite difficult to actually write a whole novel....ah well! 

We assembled graciously in the teacher's living room, coffee was brewed and cakes were put out on display. Women sat on settees and armchairs cross legged and puffed breasted in a display of splendid hostility!  It had been a while since our last coffee morning and it was obvious we had a lot to tell.  I being the most isolated in profession (I work alone, in a room, all alone) was grateful to be in their company; having just had a book out in May, I was obviously eager to tell all about my new creation and to hear all about their work and lives. I had yearned for my friends' kind words of encouragement and support and that sisterly recognition that had sustained me through the years.  However, I was not banking on the full blown scrutiny that was about to ensue.

Teacher kicked off the conversation, she smiled at me as she handed me a cream cake and asked between gritted teeth, 'So Sam, how is your writing?  I take it you have been writing, or have we been taken up with cups of coffee and the Jeremy Kyle show?'  I tried to answer but she raised her hand to hush me and said, 'Of course one would imagine it hard to get motivation when you are just sat there all day, and what on earth can one write about anyway?  Still it keeps you busy I suppose.'  My mouth clamped shut, as I mumbled that I had just published a new book only in May, to which she replied, 'Yes, I heard about that, well done, did you get it proof read?'  Cheeky mare!!  At which point Sporty miss jiggle your bum aerobics teacher decided to join in, 'I hope you've been watching your figure,' she said

as she looked me up and down, 'writing all day can make you fat you know.' Teacher giggled and covered her mouth in mischief as she poured me a fresh cup of coffee.  'We were beginning to think you'd dropped off the face of the earth, said nurse, wanting to get in on the fun.

She smiled at me as though I was a patient and leaned forward reassuringly, 'We hadn't seen you for such a long time, all the while you say you're busy with THAT book of yours,' said nurse as she gave me dagger looks.  Teacher let out a laugh.  'Yes,' said housewife, as she sat up in her seat and crossed her legs 'got too big for your friends have you Sam?' she chimed as she looked to nurse and teacher for moral support.

Nurse and Teacher laughed and sporty smirked and snorted loudly. Call me paranoid, but I was beginning to sense hostility. I looked to the fashion editor for support and she smiled warmly at me and turned to the others and said 'Oh come on, ladies, Sam has done very well for herself, she's written books, and she gets published, how proud are we of her?' she asked.  I felt a fuzzy kind of love towards my friend and was about to thank her, but then she said, 'I know that Sam doesn't have to work hard, or get up early in the mornings,'

'Or face a classroom of noisy kids!' said teacher.  'She doesn't have to mark homework either!

'Or attend to the sick and maimed!' said nurse.  As she reached for her cigarettes.

'Or deal with overweight, unhealthy sorts!' agreed aerobics instructor as she bit into a fairy cake.

'Or run around after kids and husband!  Cooking and cleaning and shopping for groceries!' said housewife.  'It takes real dedication to do what I do,' moaned housewife almost in tears.  'I have sacrificed my life for those children!'

'And God knows how hard I studied,' said teacher as she handed me yet another cup of coffee.  'I worked so hard to get to where I am!'  She gave me a look of utter defiance.

'I slog all day, cleaning up after the sick!' said nurse. 'My job is both hard and very, very  professional!' 

'And so important darling,' chimed aerobics

As she patted nurse on the leg.

I smiled acidly at my coffee morning ladies, it was obvious that jealousy had gotten the better of them and they wanted their pound of flesh.  'So Sam,' said fashion editor, 'have you been writing anything new, or have you dried up?'  I smiled graciously at my friend before looking from one friend to the other and lingering with my gaze.  'I was suffering from writer's block,' I said, 'but I think I may just have an idea for a new novel; it's about a bunch of bored women who become overwhelmed with jealousy and spite, forgetting that not long ago they were but mere housewives and bored out of their brains and it was friendship and loyalty that got them through it.  I think I'll call it Coffee Morning!'

There was a deafening silence in the room, and somewhere in the distance I could hear the faint meowing of the neighbours cat.  And then as if a tsunami had risen from the deathly ocean, they all chimed in synchronised chorus 'Sounds great Sam, we're so proud of you!' 

Ah the power of the pen!!