Vamp gone wrong

I got bitten.

I remember emitting a little ‘Ow!’, as you’re likely do when a set of teeth clamp onto your neck, but for one reason or another it slipped from my mind. It was later on, as I stood in front of the mirror tying my hair up, that the collar of my polo shirt shifted slightly and revealed the results. “Nooooo...You bloody...arrrghhh!”

What with the whole vampire obsession that’s going on at the moment, you’d be forgiven for thinking that neck decorations were somehow cool. They’re not. In fact, Edward Cullen’s got nothing on this beauty. As I stood cringing in the mirror, tapping out an enraged text message to the perpetrator with one hand and dabbing Touche Eclat over the dark purple bruise with the other, I couldn’t help but feel fifteen again. Or, the kind of fifteen I would have been, had I been remotely attractive to boys and growing up in a Sweet Valley High book.

A love bite? Seriously? Surely this shouldn’t happen. And surely I’d have packed at least one scarf, high necked top or collared shirt for my week flat ‘n’ cat sitting away from home. Actually, thank god I’m not at home. Even worse than seeing that your parents have already set an extra place for Sunday breakfast to accommodate their daughter’s Saturday night err, guest...would be seeing your mothers face when you nonchalantly walk to the living room on a Monday night with a mouth-shaped bruise adorning your neck. In that respect, I’ve had a lucky escape.

But then I remembered work. Oh, god, work. Having established that low neck lines were clearly my brainwave for this week, I yanked my hair down and pulled it forward around the offending area. Ok, so as long as there isn’t a gust of wind, and I don’t tuck my hair behind my ears, I’ll be fine. Don’t be fooled; it’s not the looks of disapproval I fear. More the relentless ribbing I’d get from colleagues and indiscreet directors, who already sing the wedding march when I talk about impending cinema dates.

Still, better to be safe. Continuing the vampire theme, I walked to work with the collar up on my suitably purple mac, and made an early morning call to another work colleague, my sister.

“Err, have you left yet? No? Good. Can you grab me my shirt off the bathroom radiator, and my green scarf off the back of my door. Yep. Great. Just shove them in internal mail.”

Never mind the perils of living at home, looking trashy and / or fifteen. As I sit in the office wearing my scarf, all I can think is...this would look so much worse if it was summer.