One of the benefits of having small children is that you never have to worry about grooming yourself. Most mornings I leave the house looking not so much like I’d just rolled out of bed but that the bed had rolled over me and vomited its breakfast all over me in the process. By the time I arrive at any evening event, I inevitably look like I’ve come straight from the Prom Night in Carrie – but, in my mind at least, I’m always forgiven and even celebrated for that small section of my left shoe not coated in child spit. I have small children, you know.
However, I know that I won’t get away with that excuse at my fashionista friend GT’s upcoming 40th, especially since I will be in a completely different state from my children. I’m going to have to lift my game, perhaps even brush my hair and put some lipstick on. I’m going to have to wear clothes not held together with velcro or safety pins, goddammit.
When we spoke on the phone the other night, GT didn’t help things by telling me who else was invited.
“Eek!” I said. “They all sound cool and interesting and well-dressed and I’m just, you know, a stay-at-home mum…”.
“Oh, but you’re not! You’re an internationally-acclaimed award-winning blogger!” GT said, kindly.
“Some award! I didn’t get a trophy or a certificate. All I’ve got to show for it is a stupid JPEG and even then, I had to make the JPEG myself!” I said. “Even if I print it out the JPEG and walked around saying ‘Oooh, look at me and my JPEG!’, it’s not really that impressive.”
I mean, honestly, there should have at least been a Special Occasion glow-in-the-dark winner’s sash that I could have worn beauty-queen style to such events, with a light-up crown and a matching sceptre with a hollowed out stem for holding vodka. And yes, I have thought about this a lot.
Anyway, GT probably knew I was going to start lamenting my lack of Bloggies-branded vodka-sceptre again and so swiftly changed the topic.
“Oh, and [Famous Person] will be there,” she mentioned, casually.
“[Famous Person]?” I squeaked.
“Yes, [Famous Person].”
“[Famous Person] will be there! Oh. My. God. [Famous Person]…” I said, before adding once more for good measure: “[Famous Person]!”
“We seem to be saying [Famous Person]’s name a lot here,” GT mentioned.
“And so we should! He’s [Famous Person] after all! Wow… Oh, I’m definitely bringing along some ‘Not Drowning, Mothering’ business cards now. And I’ll print out my JPEG and stick it on the back with sticky tape so that it looks like they’re laminated on and then I’ll give [Famous Person] one and he’ll instantly whip out his iPhone and become my fan on Facebook or ‘like’ me or whatever the hell it is that you do on facebook these days. Oh, GT! I’m so glad I invited myself to your 40th now!” I enthused.
Yes, I was excited. I knew that nobody would be talking about my mumsy-opshop-chic-zombie look at all at the party. In fact, I could wear whatever the hell I liked and it wouldn’t matter. Nobody would be looking at my clothes. Instead, they’d be all whispering to each other “Did you see that woman handing out business cards wrapped in sticky tape? Yes, the one wearing the home-made sash and the plastic crown, claiming the bottle of vodka she was carrying was a sceptre? She’s, like, so hot right now…”
Man, I’m totally going to wow that room.
Not Drowning, Mothering. 
All I can say is I want a photo, autographed by you, world famous blogger, with the sash, crown, sceptre, empty bottle of vodka and “famous person” all visible. Plus I’d really like me one of those business cards – collectors item I tell you. Have a fabulous time.
But AnnieB25, the bottle of vodka IS the sceptre (all it needs is a little bit of tinsel wrapped around it) and who says it’s gonna be empty?? (*checks bottle of vodka and finds it is already empty* DAMN!)
Ooh – now I really want to know who is “famous person!”
Also, I want to see you at this party, b/c it’s clearly going to be awesome.
I think they (as in the Cool and Stylish People) will be talking about this party for a long, long time.
Woo hoo! Super funny: “Most mornings I leave the house looking not so much like I’d just rolled out of bed but that the bed had rolled over me and vomited its breakfast all over me in the process” hoo hoo!
If you rock that party half as much as you rock the writing world (for those discerning readers that have got here) you *are* going to wow not just the room, but the whole city, and whatismore [famous person] won’t be so famous any more next to you – indeed [famous person] is probably going to be all over you hoping some of the magic will rub off on him.
I think if [Famous Person] is all over me, it’s because he just drank too much and vomited.
Still, I appreciate your faith in me. I won’t let you down… until I actually let you down.
Please casually suggest that Famous Person follow you on twitter so we can casually find out who Famous Person is. Not that your whole following is not Famous… Let me know if you need a hand with the sticky-taped business cards. I can pull out my hormone-induced scrapbooking skills and together we will create an incredibly, um, memorable look for you.
Everyone on twitter is famous. Fact. Andy Warhol would be thrilled to see his 15 minutes of fame has turned into 140 characters. Thrilled, or slightly depressed.
Is this a clue? Is [famous person] actually Andy Warhol?
I know he’s been dead for 23 years but you know, I don’t think that really matters too much at parties.
At least not at the kind of parties I get invited to. I mean, I’m invited, right?
You should tell said famous person that in this day and age of Facebook and the all-mighty Google, anonymity is the new famous.
That’ll show ’em. Or at least fuck with their ego a little bit.
Anonymity IS the new famous. Being me is like being a superhero’s mild-mannered alter ego but without the superhero part.
[NDM] you have more glam in your little pinkie than GTPT. She is from gosnells, you know.
I’m afraid I will have to punch you in the nose for A) revealing my true identity (now edited out) and B) for mentioning Gosnells in my blog.
…..something you should remind her of…
I’ll say that you told me to do it and then she can punch both of us in the nose.
Don’t know why I’m going on about punching noses, by the way. Usually I go for the groin area.
Handing out NDM cards at your friend’s birthday party sounds very classy. You should definitely run with that idea, especially since Altait is offering to share her dormant scrapbooking skills with you.
As my contribution, I will offer to loan you my daughter’s very VERY classy purple cowgirl hat which comes complete with it’s own flashing tiara to replace your absent Blogging Queen crown. I know. You can thank me later (please send cash in lieu of flowers).
As for your outfit, there are plenty of celebrities out there with squillions of dollars who are rocking the op-shop shabby chic look. You will be at the cutting edge of fashion, my friend.
By the time you’ve got it all going on with your vodka sceptre, flashing tiara and scrapbooked stickytape op-shop chic, [famous person] will be lucky if anyone else in the room even notices he’s there. 🙂
Thank you Susan for your considered response to my blog post.
Firstly, I must say the hat sounds very This Season. Perhaps I’ll buy one for my friend GT and make her wear it on her birthday party night? That way, she’ll be extra-specially glad I invited myself along.
Secondly, I think the shabby-chic look of which you speak about doesn’t incorporate the zombie aspect that my look does. It differentiates me from the rest – especially since most people don’t like to stand near me in case whatever I have is contagious (for the record: it’s not).
From one mother of small children to another, I have one piece of advice that will almost certainly guarantee you a private sortie with the aforementioned Famous Person. Carry baby wipes in your little handbag. The rest of the outfit does not matter.
Baby wipes so I can offer to clean his bottom for him? Huh! Who’d have thunk it. I’ll give it a go and report back.
You are such a tease…I’l be wondering who Famous Person is for…oh at least 10 mins!
I think you should definitely take your JPEG and you can borrow my sash. It says Friesian Dairy Maid (oh yes it does!) but if you turn it over you can write whatever the hell you want on the back!
You have your own sash? Us sashless people have a lot of sash-envy, you know. You shouldn’t rub it in.
Definitely make the most of the JPEG … might as well put it to good use 🙂
I’ve had one suggestion on twitter that I should print it out many copies and safety-pin them together to make a Liz Hurley-style dress. OF COURSE I have the figure for it (OF COURSE!) but will have to pass up the kind suggestion because I did say I couldn’t wear clothes held together by safety pins. Yes, I did.
And here I was thinking that everyone at 40th’s came dressed in glow in a the dark sash, light up crown and vodka sceptre?!
I’m so glad I came to this realisation before I turned up to my uncle’s 40th next month – which is not to say I don’t think its a great look, I just don’t think I could pull it off as well as you could because I don’t have those sticky taped business cards to go with it…
So are you taking GT a retro pre-loved dildo for her birthday or is that so last year?
This is totally my issue with attending my ten year college reunion. Well at least until famous person came into the blog. although famous people did go to my college im pretty sure that i wont be running into them..
anyway, im not as fancy as my friends… until I whip out my plastic crown that is!
ooh dear I wondered what it was you were going to ‘whip out’ with all that talk of dildos above.
Well, well, well… i may just have to pass this entry on to [famous person]… I’m sure he/she will be chuffed. And go for Magic Tape*. Leaves a more matte finish. Gloss laminate is so last season.
And for the record, it’s Kelmscott, not Gosnells. [shudder]
I’m not [Famous Person] but you’ve just been fanned (liked? Dammit facebook!) on FB.