Of course we all remember my triumph at the fancy dress party of last year?
I dunno / maybe / I think I told you about it but in December. I went to a party where the theme was "Beautiful and the Damned". Or something like that.
Usually I hate fancy dress bla bla... I made an effort etc. You can either attempt to swallow an entire camera tripod or you could do worse and read about it here.
If you can't be bothered to look, here's a picture of me as Marilyn Manson...
Anyway. So another fancy dress party invitation arrives on my doorstep.
The theme is "1979" so immediately I think that I have to go in full drag as Margaret Thatcher (she became PM in '79) but then I think that if there are any hotties for potential manoeuvres, I will look like a turd dressed in a blue skirt with a black handbag.
So after 2 minutes and 37 seconds of considering that idea, I drop it after a friend says "ohmygod - who won Wimbledon, it was either John McEnroe or Bjorn Borg?"
It's therefore decided that I am going as the Bjorn Borg. Who knew he played tennis, I thought it was just dodgy underwear?!
Anyway... what do you think?
If there are any guys worth speaking to at least I'm in the tiniest shorts possible.
I could tell the woman in the sports shop was a little perturbed.
"What the hell is a grown man doing asking to try on boys' shorts to find the tightest pair possible?"
Fashion dress demands no shame and a steely determination. It's goddam tough.