The Time I Was A Fat Fashionista For The Day
It all started when I went on telly wearing a pair of silver boots.
The next day I got a phone call saying that I was fat but I looked okay (I am paraphrasing there, she wasn’t quite so blunt), so would I be interested in talking about fashion for fatties for a campaign.
I don’t know what campaign it was because I was being heavily distracted by a McDonalds breakfast at the time, but my ears pricked when she mentioned that I would be paid for my time. There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for cash, so I said yes.
Two days later I was at a fashion event at a swanky London hotel surrounded by models and people looking very important standing around drinking champagne at two in the afternoon.
I totally didn’t belong there, but my God, can I do afternoon drinking.
So I got drunk and totally acted like I should be there.
I know fuck all about fashion, but I am fat and I scrub up okay when the situation forces me too, so I put on an act.
I employed the tactic I have taught my son who hates football and knows fuck all about it to use when other boys are harping on about it: nod, agree, and occasionally throw in a “really? Why do you think that?” or a “yes, you make a good point” now and again so it a) sounds like you know what they are on about and b) makes you sound a bit clever and enigmatic. It’s a good tactic and has got me through a hell of a lot of ridiculous conversations that I have known sod all about.
The trouble is, I got a bit carried away with the free drink and ended up having a very loud and raucous conversation with one of the girls from TOWIE about her fashion line. Only I didn’t know who she was until after I’d spoken to her, but it turned out that during the conversation, I had done a very unflattering impression. Of her. Without knowing it was her. Fuck.
That would have been awkward if I’d given a shit.
I didn’t jut say that did I?
Oh I fucking did. Of course I did.
Because I seem to have a death wish where my writing career is concerned.
Free drinks and work events should be banned, or I should be banned from them. I have a problem with turning down free alcohol. I wonder if there is a support group out there for that?
I also have a problem with keeping my mouth shut when I am pissed. I am not malicious, but when I am drunk I think I am fucking hilarious (unless I have gone the other way and am crying and rocking in a corner), hence the unflattering impressions of people.
Turns out it wasn’t too much of a problem because most of the exectives there were off their heads on coke anyway, so I have something quite exciting coming up soon.
Something that requires me to be fat which, not to blow my own trumpet, I am pretty fucking awesome at.