Jump Start

A few years ago I bought a jumpsuit. We were off to New York for a long weekend and clearly thought a jumpsuit would elevate me from knackered mother to potential extra in Gossip Girl in one outfit. Instead, I remember feeling like a giant toddler. Except with wine. And going to the loo was a (cold) logistical nightmare.  Anyway, I found it tucked away at the back of the cupboard the other day and felt bad that I hadn’t worn it since not getting that part in Gossip Girl. But I knew I had to face the fact: jumpsuits might look amazing on other people, just not on me. And I’m old enough to realise that clothes definitely shouldn’t make you feel self conscious or make it difficult to have a wee. If only I’d known that back in my puffball skirt-wearing days.