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Whatever Will I Wear?

Whatever Will I Wear

When I get an invitation, I’m rarely filled with glee

More a sense of agitation – is it only me?

It’s not that I’m unsociable, the cause of my despair

What makes me feel so anxious is whatever will I wear?

 

It’s lucky then, I tell myself, that I’m not inundated

With invites lined up on the shelf, I’d need to be sedated!

 

Some girls dress up all the time but that just isn’t me

A jumper and a pair of jeans, comfort is the key

As soon as I suspect that I might need to wear a frock

Alarm bells start a-ringing and my knees begin to knock

 

My first response is just to say, “thank you very much

But I’m afraid I’m busy that day, I’m doing such-and-such”

 

The truth is I would love to go, it’s not that I don’t care

In fact I sometimes get FOMO, but whatever will I wear?

I wouldn’t want to look a frump, I’d want to look quite glam

But then again I’d hate to look like mutton dressed as lamb

 

But it’s such a lovely invite, damn it, I’ll say yes

I’ll look on line, in magazines, I’ll buy a stunning dress

 

I’ll need to go out shopping, so much I need to do

I’ll look for something sassy but super-classy too

I’ll wait until I feel inspired, I won’t go out today

There’s loads of time, no need to rush, the party’s months away

 

I have all the best intentions, I’ll have my outfit planned

I’ll take the train to London and buy a fancy brand

 

But yikes, how fast the months fly by!  Just 2 more days to go

I’ll rummage in my wardrobe, well, you never know

Maybe I’ll find just the thing lurking at the back

And if I add a bit of bling, you can’t go wrong with black

 

I try a hundred dresses on, they’re piled up on the bed

But all their magic is long gone and I’ve been over-fed

 

Nothing fits, they’re all too tight, I squeeze and pull and wriggle

Oh my gould, what a sight, I’m bulging in the middle

It’s time a had a clear out, be ruthless, clutter free

Some things have been in there since 1983

 

I wish I’d pulled my finger out, been more organised

I’ve only got myself to blame, I shouldn’t be surprised 

 

So I dashed off into Stortford, tried loads of outfits on

I spent a bloody fortune, I’m a vision in chiffon

Here I am, I’m at the do, I’m reeking of Chanel

Even though I say myself, I’ve brushed up rather well

 

But no-one’s even noticed, no-one seems to be amazed

Heads no longer turn when I walk in a room these days

So there is a silver lining to getting on a bit

The good news is you can relax ‘cos no-one gives a shit!

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