Kate Loss

Decided I needed to brighten up my wardrobe for summer, introduce a few patterns and florals, find a dress that was nice and short. And find my first-ever playsuit. OK, my second, if you include that strapless hot pink Juicy Couture towelling one I bought in Harvey Nichols last year in a moment of WAGness and wore that same night at a spontaneous party thrown by a multi-millionaire playboy in a secret London club (I drank too much champagne and decided to change into the inappropriate playsuit in the toilet, then the next day hungoverly wondered how I could have lost my bra). 

Anyway, so I decided that THIS playsuit should be sophisticated, stylish and understated. Everything the last one wasn’t basically.

So I went to TopShop.

And within minutes I found what I was looking for – this natty little number with a draped front and back and just-the-right-length-to-show-a-bit-of-thigh-without-trying-to-pretend-I’m-18 shorts. And wonder of wonders, it looks good with The Boots. Not that that was the number one criteria or anything…

Playsuit sorted, on to the dress. I had vaguely clocked that Barbara Hulanicki of Biba fame had designed a range for TopShop, but it wasn’t until I saw the clothes with my very own eyes that I realised how beeyootiful they were. I made a beeline for this uber-short reddy-orange skater dress with spots on it (although since my Dorothy Perkins tunic debacle I was unsure about giving it the ‘dress’ moniker straight away). Amazingly they had a size 10, and amazingly the slightly comical shoulder pads didn’t look too comical when on and miraculously served to whittle me a waist. 

The Barbara dress got its first outing that very night (TopShop let me change in its changing rooms – very kind – as I’d just bought a pair of fab black studded gladiator Office sandals too, and thought the combo would be perfect with bare legs and the leather jacket I was wearing).

And it did look lovely in the changing room. And it still looked lovely going up the escalator. And as I crossed the shop floor. However, when I stepped outside I realised the error of my ways. Because although it wasn’t massively windy outside, the smallest gust threatened to whip the short, light skirt above knicker level. I have never had such a terrifying or uncomfortable 10 minute walk – picture me with folds of fabric in one hand, and my new Miu Miu purple handbag pinning it down on the other side. I was nearly at the restaurant where I was meeting the husband when a girl came up to me.

Girl: ‘Er, I don’t mean to startle you – your bag…

Me: *what?! What about my bag?! Has someone attacked it? Stolen it? Thrown paint all over it? OH GOD!*

Girl: ‘…is mostly covering it, so don’t worry, but your dress is, er, well, I can see your knickers.’

Me: *sensing unbelievable relief, give girl a big smile which clearly makes her think that this is the best news I’ve heard all day* ‘Oh! Thanks so much! That’s great! Well, not great, but…’

Girl: *looking proper scared and suddenly starting to pick up the pace* ‘No problem, just thought you might like to know…’

So now on I will only be wearing the dress with thick leggings. Or with hotpants. Or when I’m drunk and don’t care and have my best pants on.