Comfortably numb

There are some things that are sacred to me. One of these is getting dressed in the morning in natural light. I like to start my day by pretending I’m Julie Andrews, finding endless possibilites in the curtains.

Anyway, I’ve moved. And now there are a whole new set of people to wonder at sleepily . (Oh, I also like to perve on people while I’m getting dressed. This is another thing that is sacred to me). Sacre bleu! (Yes, I speak the French. I also like blue cheese, preferably with quince, which is still much too hard to find in London. Interestingly, when I was 12 my favourite colour was purple, which I like to think of as blue’s more sophisticated cousin. Perhaps a secret smoker, though she’ll grow out of this and get into Russian literature. Or at least lugging the books around. And sighing, endlessly. It’s ok though, she turns out great). One of the best things about my new bedroom is the view. One of the worst things is that I still don’t have a wardrobe so am using a cardboard box. My clothes look a lot like I pulled them out of a cardboard box. There are two reasons why my view is excellent. I have named them Mike and Mango. This is mostly because recently I tried to determine a colleague’s middle name from its initial. Which was M. Mike is a black guy who likes to drink coffee over the sink (shirtless), and Mango is a white guy who always forgets where he has put his clothes so paces back and forward (shirtless). I really see a lot of potential for Mike and Mango. They would make a perfect sitcom. I personally would be happy to help them with their syndication rights. I sometimes see Mike and Mango in the evening. (By ‘see’, yes, I mean perve on them from my window). What Mike and Mango have got sorted (which is yet another reason they will soon be the darlings of Channel 4), is the post-work change. This is a crucial part of your day. Personally, I like to start undressing while fumbling for my front door key, so that I’m halfway out of my tights when I bump into my neighbours. I then carefully sling my dress, heels, tights, the occasional belt onto the floor and do some light press ups in my underwear. (By light press ups I mean start searching for trackies/ pajama bottoms around my room. They often end up under my bed, so there’s some pretty intense exercise going on). I used to have several pairs of excellently comfortable tracksuit bottoms but they have been mercilessly retrieved by my disgruntled friend. I’m obviously not going to buy a new pair (I mostly try very hard to avoid paying for things that make me look ugly) but if I were…

1. These are by Jean Paul Gaultier. (Yes, French. Sacre bleu). I won’t include a link, because they’re sold out. Too many people bought these re-imagined Juicy Couture cotton/polyester leg coverers. I hope you’ve noticed that these come with zipped pockets- perhaps because once you’ve bought them, you won’t be able to afford a handbag and will have to carry your stuff in your pockets. I have been wondering about the model’s odd pose, but think perhaps these trackies are so tight that she needs to stand like this to relieve pressure around the bottom area.

2. These are my favourite things in the world. They are made by Rag & Bone, and they cost $242. I am excellent at keeping up with the Forex, so I can tell you with some certainty that in real money that is £42. Please buy several pairs. They are called ‘summer longjohns’. I cannot possibly imagine what I have been doing without longjohns all these summers.

3. These look a lot like something one might buy at The Gap. (To the unfashionable, obviously. Not to me). Well, stop looking in The Gap immediately, because these trackies are made by Bottega Veneta. They cost £515. They are made of cotton. They have a drawstring waist. (Once again, get out of The Gap. These tracksuit bottoms are entirely different. They have ribbed hems).

PS. Trackies are not to be worn outside unless one is playing sports. Or homeless. Honestly, this is not a suggestion. I wore a pair yesterday to Tesco and a tramp stopped me on Holland Park Avenue to ask if I were okay. Well, I think that was what he was asking. It was hard to hear over my immense comfort.

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