Right, before I get stuck into what I’ve been up to and what I’ve been wearing I want to expand on a post I put on my socials at the weekend. The post was an explanation of a photo I had added to my Instagram Stories in the week.
I had a lot of messages about the infamous sack dress. And I’d just like to thank everyone for their wonderful messages of support. It really did mean a lot.
For those that missed it;
In December 1990, I received a Sack in the post to my home address. Somewhat confused as to why someone had me sent a sack I quickly looked over it, I found a cardboard label attached that read
“Dear Suzanne
Have a sensational time this Christmas.
I thought you needed something decent to wear
From an Admirer.”
It was at this point I realised that someone had cut a head hole and arm holes. In fact, they’d turned a postal sack into a ‘dress’. And then posted it to me (at quite a lot of personal expense on stamps).
I fully and immediately realised the intent. It wasn’t suggesting “oh my god you look so good, you’d even look good in a sack”. It was “you are nothing and your clothes are nothing, you’d be better off wearing this sack as an improvement”.
It was like a knife in the heart. I can still feel the heat of humiliation I felt 30 years, 4 months, and 22 days ago as if it was yesterday. The intention was to hurt me, to wound me, and it worked.
I have no idea what I did that caused someone so much rage they’d actually spend money on postage to show me their hate.
It was such a weird, and devastating experience.
I don’t know what I did that offended them so.
I don’t come from a well off family, just normal working class, living in a normal 3 bed terraced house, living a very normal life, with camping holidays etc.
I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t an alpha girl. I was just a normal run of the mill teen.
My lifestyle wasn’t flashy, my clothes certainly weren’t flashy.
I worked in Topshop as a Saturday girl, so I wore nice clothes, but not unobtainable.
I shopped mainly in Romford market and Primark ~ before it became fashionable to do so.
I still to this day don’t understand their motivation. I can’t get my head round annoying someone so much they’d go to all that trouble.
Most people have said they must have been jealous, and I understand why people would think that. But what I can’t understand is WHY?
At 17, when I received it, I was in the peak of starving myself and self harming. So it’s not like I thought I was amazing or anything, quite the opposite in fact, I was already lost.
The feeling I felt when I opened it has always stayed with me, someone hated me that much, they wanted me to feel it. And the note is super sinister, signing it from an admirer…when clearly they were not, is a little twisted. But the whole episode is twisted.
If you think trolling is new, think again. Back in my day, they’d write to you to be shitty. ;)
I kept it, the whole parcel, the envelope, the ‘dress’.
I don’t know why I did, but now I think I felt ready to make my own narrative. Re write the story…
So here I stand in my beautiful sack dress. In my beautiful home, oh and I’ve teamed it with Christian Dior shoes and bag today darrrrling.
I’d love it if they saw the post. If it were someone I knew (which is a horrible thought) and I suppose they’d have to be as they sent it to my home address, I’d love them to know that I recovered, I grew more comfortable and confident in my skin despite their best efforts to derail and already fairly unrailed me.
…Oh and incidentally I write a style blog that’s been read over a hundred thousand times. So from the ashes of humiliation and hurt, I became a Phoenix of dressing well with a stoma. And believe me, if I can dress well with a bag of poo attached to my abdomen, I could easily do it without, could they say the same I wonder?
I just hope they have healed from the terrible pain they must have been in too. I can’t imagine ever being so obsessed and envious of someone they didn’t really know, even though they must have thought they did.
I certainly can’t imagine ‘well’ people spending their own money on hating someone.
The poor poor soul. I really hope they got better from whatever demon that was plaguing them.
Some 30 years later and I now feel sorry for them, and not myself.
December 18th 1990, aged 17
May 8th 2021, aged 47
Dress from ‘a dark place in someone’s mind’, Shoes and Bag from Christian Dior
I could probably throw this emblem of hate away now. It’s over, I had nothing to prove but I proved it anyway. :)
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So on with the show;
Onwards and upwards out of the pandemic. Seeing people is rather more appealing than before we were vaccinated. That said, I had a very mild panic attack last Wednesday. So yes I’m excited to get back to the old normal. But I am going to have hiccups along the way.
Mainly because my old normal was panicking paranoia about germs.
Lockdowns brought with it a hall pass on germ anxiety because, quite simply I wasn’t going anywhere to get germs to start with. I was instantly healed.
I settled very nicely into not having to worry about germs, and seeing people, and their germs. I was free through lockdowns of my paranoia about cross contamination. It was one of the very few upsides.
Last week we had friends over for dinner, friends I was so excited to see, as we hadn’t seen them in ages. My emotions got lost in translation. Excitement became anxiety.
The panicky feelings started in the morning when I decided to go back to the garden centre I had wanted to visit the other day, but abandoned the attempt, due to the queue looking too daunting.
I don’t want to be in queues, I can’t cope with the people. Yes, I know us brits love a queue but the shine has come off them somewhat.
Plus a friend I had seen at the weekend had mentioned they had vomited.
When I became anxious I became nauseous, my brain immediately joined the dots. But wrongly.
The anxiety caused the nausea, I went into over drive because I felt I had a tummy bug coming.
So at least it’s nice to know that all that crazy that was dormant whilst I wasn’t seeing anyone is still alive and well. Hahahahaha :)
Anyway. I really wanted to have my other friends over so I pushed through. I went to the garden centre and got the bits I needed.
I then came home and scaped the table for their arrival. All the while with a crushing feeling on my chest and feeling nauseous.
I did not have a bug at all. Once my friends arrived all the feelings dissipated. Totally worth pushing on and not giving up.
Dress from H&M, Tights from Tesco, new Boots from Valentino Rock Studs.
I bought these the other day assuming they’d be for next winter, but the weather is so rubbish, I’m getting wear out of them now. :)
I like to prep a table. Guests like to see they mean enough for someone to bother.
I’d not actually looked into the origins of table scaping before. I just know I do it because I’m a terrible cook, so I’ll try and distract you from that! Hahahahaha.
I had a little Google;
*Tablescaping, or table-setting, is an activity involving the setting of themed dining tables in artful, decorative ways for social events, and in a variety of categories for competitions. Tablescaping is a portmanteau of table and landscaping; it was coined by television chef Sandra Lee in 2003. In the United States, competitions take place at county fairs and events across the country; competitive tablescaping traces back to at least the 1930s.
Interesting!
For my curry nights, I use some table cloths I picked up in a very cheap shop. And paper napkins. Why? Well curry is a bugger to get out of cloth. So I bleach the white table cloths and bin the napkins.
We had such a fantastic evening. It was so much fun. We haven’t had a catch up in so long.
All panic had evaporated 5 minutes after they arrived.
It will probably happen again, and again and again I imagine. All I have to do is remember it’s an invisible force trying to upset and derail me. If I can ignore it and push on I’m bloody well going to try.
I’ve got so much booked coming up, I don’t want to miss out because my brain is tormenting me, following a year of enforced separation.
********
I had a couple of fantastic meetings with Bowel Research UK. I absolutely love being involved in future development that will help people affected by cancer and all bowel diseases.
For me this is quite casual for meeting wear. I literally don’t leave my home for them, but I still like to dress well for them. It gives me something to do for a start. :)
Friday meeting wear…
Dress from Boohoo, Shoes from Fendi
Friday was both meeting day for Bowel Research UK again, and a curry night in the garden with Ben and his friend Ally.
Don’t fret, Kaitlyn is alive, safe and well but she is on the final leg of her degree course and she is working like a Trojan. I’m in awe of how hard she is studying. I have never put any effort into my academic career and I have the results to prove it! Hahahahaha. In my defence and in fairness to me I didn’t know I had dyslexia and dyscalculiar till I was 30, so I was at a considerable disadvantage throughout my school life.
I’ve got everything crossed that all Kaitlyn’s hard work will pay off. She certainly deserves it to.
Anti bac hand gel is vital. As is tap water. We’re lucky enough to live in a country that you can drink the water straight from the tap, we might as well take advantage of the fact. Plus it’s a lot cheaper and more eco friendly than bottled.
We had a very nice meal. With these very nice people.
We ordered takeaway curry. I mean, really, why subject people to my cooking unnecessarily. Hahahahaha.
Saturday was a shocker weather wise, so, brave little souls that we are we braved a visit to Ikea and then on to Costco. Whoop whoop!! Do Saturdays get any better than that!?! :)
It was busy but not overwhelming.
And then on Sunday we did something a bit out of the ordinary…we went to a car boot sale! Yes!! I know! Me!! At a boot sale.
It’s not that unusual really. I was brought up on them. As a child, my family attended them to sell at. I remember one time the car was so packed with stuff to sell I had to sit in the footwell of the passenger seat, that my mum was sitting in. Awwww, they were different times back then, car safety came after boot sale fayre. Hahahahaha.
Anyway, the reason I needed a boot sale was I wanted to gather more table scaping items. I have been cut off from my usual supply (Chris said no more! Hahahahaha. I may have got a bit carried away with my bidding on EBay!). Hahahahaha
I got a few nice bits in Ikea, but I knew I had some other things in mind. And I had a fairly strong feeling that I’d be able to pick them up at a boot sale. And I was right. The boot sale gods were shining down on me. :)
You can take the girl out of Neptune, but you can’t take the Neptune out of the girl. ;)
Our bags are incredibly strong and re purposeful. Absolutely perfect for carrying my goodies home in.
The reason I went? Well, I really love a lot of the stuff on Mrs. Alice’s website. But it is very expensive, with a capital E!!
I saw this jug on there and really wanted it. But can I justify the cost?
Ninety five pounds for a glass jug I’m likely to smash?
I can’t! I just can’t!
Well hello boot fair and your beautiful booty!…
Okay, so it’s not exactly the same, it’s not even that similar…but it was only £2.50 and that more than makes up for it. ;)
Once my jug is on the dressed table I think I can recreate a similar effect to Mrs. Alice’s table, just a budget version ~ that hopefully will look a million dollars. If I have learned anything in this life, it’s not what you wear but how you wear it that counts. :)
Sunday evening I cooked a roast dinner for 5. Kaitlyn finally took a break from her study.
I can cook a roast. But I get no pleasure from all the stress of the timings. Cooking a roast, timing is everything.
I laid a beautiful table. But what I can’t do is plate up a meal beautifully. I just want to get it over with and away from me, so it all tends to get thrown on to the plate, much like an angry school dinner lady. Hahahahaha
After they finished their meal, they complimented me on the taste, even if they did mark me down for presentation, I explained the secret of my delicious meal…car boot sale veg!! Hahahahaha
They did seem a bit shocked, but it was from a proper stall, it’s not like some random just turned up with their old mouldy vegetables. Hahahahaha
Last weekend’s meal was from Fortnum’s, this week’s was from a van in a Sunday market.
The key to a happy life? Adaptability!! :)