Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER
The first time I met Peggy, she was wearing an orange dress. Now I’m not into dresses. Wearing them myself, that is. Female yes. Dress no. Jeans always, because they have good sized, secure pockets. Two on the front – one for the wallet and one for the smart phone. My choice of smart phone is dictated by the size of this pocket. If phone won’t fit, I no buy. Back pockets, one for keys and one for the omnipresent tissue to cope with the omnipresent hay fever. Then there is the bonus little pocket on the front, just big enough to hold the change from that vital morning coffee.
Now why are we talking about me and my aversion to wearing dresses and the accompanying necessity to carry a handbag for the above said items? Well Peggy is my antithesis. She loves the dress, handbag and the absolutely necessary, in her mind, matching shoes.
We were at a writing workshop. Me in my jeans with my usual hang back, introvert attitude and her with her, in your face, extrovert, ‘I must be the centre of attention’ attitude. I dropped my gaze, we were supposed to be mingling to select a partner to introduce to the group. The next minute Peggy was standing right in front of me, that very orange dress dazzling me with its brilliance.
Don’t make eye contact! Who else can I pair up with? Someone said ‘how about you and me?’ ‘Who’s asking’, I thought, trying to keep panic from overtaking me. I looked up and yes, wouldn’t you know it. It was the lady in orange, beaming at me.
In an instant I took in the matching handbag and shoes. No… that is all too much orange, all too much a sight from the past. Was it the ’60s or the ’70s when such a fashion disaster was commonplaces? Then it hit me. I know why I was avoiding this woman! It had been in the late ’60s. I was a student and was still under the influence of the current fashion. I’ve worn my own version of clothes styles for years now. It’s no longer out with the old and in with whatever is in this season.
I had an outfit somewhat similar to that which Peggy is now wearing accept that by comparison it had been minuscule. The skirt hardly covered my bum.
I was at a party and somehow, I’d ended up with this hippy guy and we were engaged in some hot sex in front of the blazing fire. We were mid orgasm when in walked a stranger. She stared and stared until finally she said ‘where have I seen that dress before’.
We were semi naked and the dress that had originally been my pride and joy. My means of getting a lay, was flung over the fire guard. How could this person be seeing it and not the state of chaos right before her eyes?
‘Myer’s window, on Tuesday! But it was gone when I went back with the cash on Wednesday. Bitch! How dare you beat me to it, and it was a bargain!’
My man sat bolt upright. Surely he would do something to ease my embarrassment
‘Oh hello Peg. I’m all done here. We’ve just got time to get home so the babysitter can leave.’