Kicking Up

So I was off to a supposed dinner-dance on Saturday night. It wasn't much of an event. After a respectable interval we made our escape and headed off to Little Creatures. On the way, one of my companions said, "I'd rather eat my own poo than go back to that party." Possibly a slightly extreme way to express one's distaste, but also she was quite drunk so we probably couldn't have expected to hold her to that.

The dress code was "casual cocktail", which I found a little difficult to figure out. Did it mean I should don a nice dress with ugg boots, or maybe pyjamas with high heels? I decided to wear a black dress with silver shoes, though I was a little worried about being warm enough. New Girl was at my place on Friday night and we were mulling over the problem. The next day she emailed me with a solution: leg warmers - brilliant! Not only would they keep me snug, I wouldn't have to bother with shaving my legs!

Of course, she was only joking. But if either of us had known what the evening was going to be like we would have given it much more serious consideration.