The lights are too bright for my complexion

A crowded department store on a soggy September afternoon, a hell of bright lights and loud music. I’m tired of seeing my gruesome reflection in the torture chamber {laughingly called the changing room} tired of falling over discarded merchandise but most of all tired of being judged. Usually by a snarling twelve-year-old with hideous painted on eyebrows which shoot to the middle of her forehead whenever a difficult question is asked ie Do you sell ladies shoes? .

 Yes the days of bikinis and skimpy shorts may have gone, however we who are ‘mature like a fine wine’ have usually earned every crease, fold and bulge either through childbirth, hard work, injury or the dreaded Hysterectomy. So, I have decided to share my shopping trips with other mature humans [men are invited to join in] and see if we share a common experience. Next blog will be  ‘the curse of the summer sales’.

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