There was disappointment at school drop-off too, when I presented myself on the Monday in my bargain coat from Help the Aged. 'Tighter and brighter,' must be my mantra from now on, said one of the mothers, who advised me to embrace the heatwave with tube of Sun Shimmer Bronzer and diamante flipflops.
I sense, however, that my leopard-print adventure has done more that 18 months of parish cake-baking to enhance my standing at church and school. The coolest of the mothers who survey me know that, beneath my tweed cladding, lurks a temptress in Jimmy Choo shades.
The Vicar, glued to his laptop in his study, turned out not to be fine-tuning a sermon, but gazing with glee at my blog pictures. Clearly the Church of England craves a hymn to bling.
My daughter, still in shock at the brief realisation of her dreams, has ceased to nag me to be cool. And because she has stopped nagging me I now have more of an urge to please her.
I have agreed to grow my hair so that she can lend me her silver scrunchy. I have replaced my split Wilko wellies with a pair of Hunters so that she can lay claim to a mother with a designer label. I have splurged at the Boots cosmetic stands and ornamented my naked dressing table with a collection of facial aids.
|My comprehensive new make-up stash|
And I have allowed her to choose my day-wear from the safe scope of my wardrobe.
It was my choice, not hers, to exile my hairiest tweed. I have glimpsed an alternative sartorial future which, if not leopard-printed, is daringly less woolly.
She and I have reached a restful compromise and I am relieved. Then, just as I am congratulating myself on my brighter, tighter future and restored family harmony, my mother rings. She and the 9-year-old have compared despairing notes on my body image and she approves of the targets for my transformation.
'So will you be showing your legs a bit more from now on?' she asks.
'Don't know. Maybe.'
'And you'll do something with your hair?'
'Don't know. Maybe'
'And will you be wearing make up?'
'Not a bit of powder?'
'Something round the eyes?'
There's a pause, then a sigh. 'Well,' she breathes at last, 'That is a disappointment.'
So - back to square one then!
Very many thanks to anyone who voted for me in the Brilliance in Blogging Awards. Thanks to you, I have made it as far as the Lit category shortlist. Any further prods to win me cyber-stardom would be hugely appreciated. Just click on the badge thingy above and then, I assume, the process becomes obvious. Oh, and if you have the energy to add to my nominations for the MADS awards by clicking the other icon I'll let you try on the leopard print!