You know how some people have that “Sartorial Elegance” gene? You know the one where you can just randomly choose clothes out of the tumble dryer and look like you have walked off a catwalk in Milan?
Me, I don’t have that gene. Not even close. I have the kind of dress sense that makes Wurzel Gummidge look like David Beckham at his most dapper. Like many people with the “Pulled through hedge backward gene” I consequently take little interest in clothing. Not something that ever really flashes on my radar.
Last blog I posted made me feel a bit more sanguine, and I was able to start enjoying myself. Instead of #GetRalphADate being this massive, frightening thing I was able to participate in the right spirit…. a bit of fun at Xmas. So I have been chirpy and upbeat. Enjoying my time as the internet’s “And Finally…” story. I was being the Interweb equivalent of the Parrot who looks like, and can sing like, Ziggy Stardust and the owner is talking about going on tour in America.
Until, I suddenly started thinking:-
“Wait a second Ralphy-boy; remember what happened this week, that mental international media storm that culminated in you asking a girl out on twitter, and her saying yes?”
“Why, yes me, I do kind of vaguely recall those events”
“And, do you see why I’m bringing this up now?”
“No Ralph, don’t see it at all. What’s the relevance please?”
“Well dummy we are going on a date, and I think we are in agreement that we are rather keen on it going swimmingly right?”
“So our lack of any dress sense, or even the knowledge of what might look good could possibly, just maybe scupper our chances of appearing to be James Dean on the day right? And we ever so want to impress Miss X?”
“Oh indeed Ralphy boy, oh indeed”……
So…… I suddenly realise I have another bit of dating Kryptonite on top of my shyness about asking people out. Argghhh… This is exacerbated by having a pathological hatred of shopping for clothes, especially when town is busy.
Seriously given a choice between braving the Mall during Christmas shopping, and deciding on clothing to buy or performing an un-anaesthetised self disembowelment; then get the industrial cleaner out as there will be blood and guts all over the floor!
So now having a little bit of an existential crisis about something I never thought I’d think of….. What to wear? How can I make myself look much cooler than I actually am, well actually that probably isn’t hard, but as cool as I’d like to appear is an altogether more difficult prospect 😉
Then comes complication number two. Miss X, has understandably, and sensibly, insisted on a chaperone for our date. What with me being a random internet weirdo and all. She has enlisted the services of a fierce attack puppy to ensure I behave, don’t make any unwarranted lecherous advances, and possibly in case I fail in a stick fetching test! I’m sure the brave pup will in fact admirably perform his duties and keep me in line.
But you know what I am a dog lover, so I’m probably going to want to play with the little blighter, who knows he might be muddy or slobbery.
So I need to work out how do I dress to impress against a backdrop of needing to look as cool as Johnny Depp, buying only clothes that will appear on the first shelf, of the first shop I go into, and also be able to still look effortlessly cool having played with an excitable potentially muddy puppy?
Gosh this is a tricky one huh?