Same But Different

See anyone you recognise?

On Friday I met up with Buttercup from Buttercup’s Frocks at Westfield Merry Hill, and we had a great time shopping, chatting and then shopping some more. I love meeting bloggers for the first time. Its a little like stepping into my computer in a Twilight Zone kinda way. I look at the photo we took and its kinda strange seeing us in the same pic, it’s like one of us has photobombed the others wardrobe shot. The surrealism of the photo is further amplified by the fact that we’re wearing the same dress. The photo was taken in Yours were we both liked the same frock but it didn’t fit either of us despite our different body shapes. It gaped in between the armhole and bust on both of us and looked pretty dreadful. Dear retailers, fat girl clothes need bust darts. You won’t win customers by cutting corners on the fit *shaking finger*.

We went into H&M but the plus section was so diabolically disasterous even by H&M’s usual poor show, that I won’t even comment any further. All that was missing was some petrol and a match. You would have to have seen it to really believe it.

We had more success in Evans where I bought a super bargainous dress from last years Clements Ribeiro collection for £18 (it was £20 but there was an easily repairable hole in the side seam) and Buttercup bought a jersey dress from the current Evans range.

I couldn’t wait to wear my new purchase and wore it to church the very next day. I was trying to do my very best Zadie Smith impersonation by teaming a very ladylike dress with black framed glasses and headwrap. Isn’t the resemblance uncanny…..

Image from observer.com

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Image from elleuk.com

Um- no.

Okay, so I looked nothing like her. There is in fact someone else a little closer to home who I do definitely resembled…

My mother.

Generally I don’t think we look much alike though some people think we do. However, there’s no denying a physical resemblance in this photo. As soon as I saw the pic it reminded me of this photo of my mom from the 60’s. The stance is the same and our arms even hang in a similar way for goodness sake, The head tilt and the side glance only reinforce the fact that I am slowly turning into my mother, something that I never thought would happen, physically, mentally or in any other possible way.

This metamorphosis isn’t a bad thing. I love my mother to bits, I think I just like to believe that all my traits and mannerisms are my own. I guess I’m wrong. My mom would have been in her thirties too around the time that this photo was taken. She’s 80 now and has no wrinkles to speak of so I certainly wouldn’t mind inheriting her good skin. I spend a lot of time in front of a computer screen though so I’ve probably sealed my fate as far as that’s concerned as I’m sure the constant glare ages you at an alarming rate. I’m just glad that make up for black skin has improved over the past fifty years and I have Bobbi Brown 6.5 to rely on. Whatever brand my mom was using really was not the one,