Thursday, 14 May 2009

"I'm getting my colours done"

You're getting your what done?
"My colours"
What you on about, colours? Hair?
"No, clothes"

Up in my mum's room at the moment is an immacualtely dressed 40-something woman, clutching a piece of paper with different coloured squares on it. I can hear the words "Geranium", "wishy washy", "ever worn it?" and most worryingly, "have you got any bin bags?" flying about the place. There's a mountain of clothes heaped on the bed, we're talking 3 ft high, and they haven't even started on the drawers yet.

I stuck my head round the door about five minutes ago and surveyed the process. I think I finally understand the term "shock and awe". My mum's hired the female equivalent of Gok Wan for the afternoon to work her magic all over her vast, overflowing wardrobe. By the end of it, every item of clothing left in those cupboards will be there because it suits her skin tone and she's likely to wear it: they will have survived the great clothing cull of 2009.

"Have you had your colours done?" Mrs Gok demanded, seeing me staring open mouthed at the door.
"N-n-o..." I stuttered before backing away, slowly, and shutting the door to my room.

I'm already panicking about what she might do to my collection of Karen Millen dresses and that body hugging size 6 Miss Selfridge number that I haven't worn since I was 14.

Somehow, I don't think Mrs Gok would understand the concept of "I keep it, you know, just in case".


Anonymous said...

That's odd, my latest charity-shop purchase was 1985 copy of "Colour Me Beautiful", but I'll be damned if I can work out if I'm Spring or Autumn.

In either case, I am apparently required to wear quantities of make-up usually reserved for the transvestite population and/or a velour jump suit with court shoes.

- Homer

The Unbearable Banishment said...

I am dying to know what something like that costs. If you can't post the price, can you email it to me? Your poor father...

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Homer - My mum's Autumn apparently. I reckon 1985 fashion can't be too far removed from the boutique section of Topshop you know!

Unbearable - I'm curious myself. As soon as she leaves, I'll find out. Haha, my mum's her own woman, my dad doesn't get a look in ;) Despite my mocking I think I'm going to get this woman to work out what my colours are. Apparently the wardrobe chucking session is "Stage 2". Sounds like a disease.

Brennig said...

To a Hells Angel, one's 'colours' are the leathers one wears as a badge of office.

Ellie said...

How does one become a specialist in colour? How do you know she's not a con woman? What colours does she wear? Do they seem to be 'her colours?'

Ella said...

Sadly my "I keep it just in case" drawer is getting fuller and fuller each year

Anonymous said...

Bridget Jones' mother gets her colours done: that's the only time (until now) I've heard of this phenomenon. It does sound really exciting though!

I'm with the Unbearable Banishment: dying to know how much it costs

PS. Eurovision tonight xxx

Mouldy-Old-Tartlet said...

Eek. Well I hide myself away under black a lot of the time and if some old bird came in to `do my colours' and decided that black `wasnt my colour' I'd have to go naked. And no-one would want that.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Brennig - I assure you, my mum is not a hells angel.

Ellie - She looked hot for a 40-something. In fact, she might not even be 40. She could be in her 30s. She dressed well, mostly in dark blue (she's blonde, bit tanned). I'd trust her. Plus my mum looks loads better now.

Ella - Oh, mine too :( Ebay is my friend.

Blueskies & unbearable - Apparently the wardrobe 'chuck out' session was £40 p/h. The colours my mum had done years ago. Nice little earner!

MOT - Yeah, I panicked a bit at the thought of someone telling me that the green turquoise colour I'm so fond of is actually doing nothing for me. :-/

Anonymous said...

"I keep it, you know, just in case".

Story of my life...

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

It takes a certain hardness to throw out things that no longer fit (or just look awful) :(


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