Last month I had to donate some jeans and trousers to a local charity shop because (shock, horror) they didn't fit me anymore. I've always been slim, some would even say skinny, and I've always had trouble finding jeans, etc, that wouldn't slide off my hips without the aid of a belt, so you can imagine my surprise when I couldn't even button them up.
And don't mention my T-shirts. For most of my twenties I wore a medium because that's what I thought I was. Medium. Average. But no. I eventually accepted the truth and started buying small, slim T-shirts and I actually started to feel that I looked good in what I was wearing. Now I tend to look like a snake that's swallowed a watermelon.
In my late teens to early twenties my hair was my crowning glory, starting with an almost Brian May kind of style that was, now I think about it, quite awful (I got a lot of stick for it at school). Over time I let the curls straighten out as it grew longer and let it flow past my shoulders on it's way down my back. How proud I was, I considered it to be akin to Samson's locks, a source of strength, etc.
Securing employment meant that I was forced to have a more public friendly image, hence a shorter style but in the back of my mind I always intended to grow it again when the opportunity presented itself.
Ha!
Ever wondered why I always wear a hat? My hair is receding and not in a respectable widow's peak kind of way. It has formed two desolate islands of hair above my forehead that makes me look like I have horns. And not in a cool Hellboy kind of way, either!
Now you know why I wear a hat. It'll be reading glasses next!
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