Party time and nothing to wear

My Guy and I have been invited out on Saturday. Our neighbours are reaching the 70 mark at the same time so one of the daughters has arranged a joint ‘surprise’ party. This has put me in a right dilemma, as in ‘what to wear’.

Since giving up the high life of WI … joking of course … I’ve stopped buying the sort of gear that’s suitable for big events. Not to worry, I think, I’ve still got a load of outfits that serve for this kind of function.

So yesterday I examined the stock. Now you remember last year I told you that I’d lost a lot of weight ... yes, you guessed it, everything is TOO BIG. Panic! Now what? I can hardly go to an evening dinner and stuff in jumper and jeans. I tried everything on just in case but the sad fact remained that I had nothing to wear.

So bright and early this morning I tootled off to House of Fraser, the store where the assistants either turn in late or not at all, and when they do arrive they go missing from the sales floor so that customers have to hang around until they appear. I hate that. Even the tills are unmanned (should I say unwomaned?) as if they don’t even want to take your money. Many’s the time I’ve wandered round, holding up an item I wish to purchase and looking for someone to take my cash. I wonder what the reaction would be if I walked out without paying? I’ve complained about it before but what can you do when THAT store has the monopoly.

There are two floors that sell women’s wear but appropriate gear was nowhere to be seen. Oh there was plenty of stuff for the younger generation but not for yours truly. I went to my favourite Jacques Vert section, which of course had no assistant to help. Oh she was in the store all right but she was busy chatting on different floors. She knows me and her face was a picture of guilt whenever she saw me. I had a good look round but all I could see was winter coats. No everyday outfits or stuff for mother-of-the-bride, no flowing skirts or fancy tops. Nothing!

Another customer started to complain about the service and the lack of things for the ‘older’ lady. ‘It’s all designer stuff for kids,’ she said in a very disgusted voice. ‘And have you tried looking for your own size?’ Well, yes, I had, and could never find it. Apparently she had the same trouble. On most sections there were sizes 8-10-12-14-18-20-22 … hope you noticed the missing number … that’s right, no size 16 (this is UK size, by the way). So, what’s wrong with being 16 apart from the fact that the manufacturers seem to have stopped making it?

If only there was someone we could ask!

I went off for another wander round the store, bumped into the aforementioned gossiping assistant three times (she must have been visiting all her friends), and tried on a couple of dresses. One was so tight I reckon a girl had to be willow slim to squeeze into it. It was in a stretchy material and clung where it touched. Absolutely not for me, not at my age! It actually squashed the boobs flat and that wouldn’t do at all, would it?

I did spot a red top that would go nicely with my red jacket, and they had it in my size. It started life at 95 euros or £60 in real terms but was reduced by 30%. By the time they’d knocked off my £20 loyalty vouchers I only had to fork out £22. That put a smile on my face.

I decided to call it a day and go home to cook dinner.

On the way out I got talking to an assistant that I knew, and she did nothing but moan about House of Fraser and the attitude of the staff. She was mostly blaming the staff for coming in late and not working when they got there but I pointed out that it was a management problem for letting them get away with it.

‘All they think about is money,’ she said.

In my view they should think about the customers while they still have them.

I’m going back tomorrow because I had a brainwave. The outfits once worn for functions are lovely garments, tops and skirts mostly. Well, the skirts fit beautifully, it’s the tops that hang from the shoulders like bits of rag. I am exaggerating, but they certainly don’t look good. Why not buy different tops, I thought. Something lacy and cream would look good…. so, as I said, I’m going back tomorrow.

I shall pray for tolerance in case I bump into old chatterbox again.