…YOU'VE GOT A SPOT
(Flaunt it if you've got it. Hide it if you don't)
Sometimes life happens, stress builds, hormones interfere and the stars align to really screw you over.
As luck would have it I'm actually living through the aftermath of this right now. I'd like to say that I took it on the chin but I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. You see the consequences of the aforementioned fucking nightmare have manifested themselves upon my chin. The old 'mountain out of a molehill' has no place in this scenario, as I am in fact currently attached to what is essentially an extra limb, a bullseye, a spot. But I don't feel like this surmises the magnitude of the issue properly. If it continues to grow at this rapid pace, I'd estimate that it will be self sufficient in about two days. Am I being too graphic? Good. Now you have an inkling as to what I've been going through. As least I'll have someone to keep me company whilst I watch 'Made In Chelsea'…
I've now started introducing myself with an apology; just to clarify that I am in fact fully aware of what's going on down south of my mouth and yet I'm still brave enough to leave the house. (FYI: I'm imminently awaiting the arrival of my balaclava). My mother keeps listing the benefits of water but I'm afraid drowning the thing won't work.
I woke up this morning and I thought bugger it. I can't camouflage the damn thing and I can't think of a disguise inconspicuous enough - the last thing I want is to attract more attention or potentially get arrested. I was left with little more than my trusty cover up and the sacred cavern that is my wardrobe. I thought about carrying a guitar around with me but figured that was a tad emo kid - and with my MySpace account having been deactivated a looong time ago, I felt that my therefore undocumented efforts would be a total waste of my
(Ahh the polo neck; a wardrobe saviour. Every time)
When in doubt, some people dance it out. I however, see clothing as my saviour. I started with the lipstick, which is a rarity, but I had to do something to distract myself from my beacon-like chin. I steered clear of my usual red shade - coordinating your lips and cheeks is de rigueur but not so much matching them with your acne… Next I did the 'logical' thing and went straight to the shoes. I wanted to keep attention below chin-level; short of a self-inflicted camel toe, attention grabbing footwear was my only option - not that that was too much of a chore mind you! I chose a pair of red, crushed velvet, cross strapped wedge booties. I figured the description alone would divert their attention long enough for me to scarper if needed. I - rather festively - paired them with my bottle green trousers, replete with zipper ankle detail. The potential adjustment of these would offer an invaluable reason for ducking and ultimately never reappearing again.
I then went in search of a top. Things were getting that desperate that I actually debated going topless, but does a pimple really warrant such a display of indecent exposure? Or worse, potential pneumonia? Perhaps I need to reassess my priorities… After much thought I decided that the answer to both was probably not. A white top was thus chosen and involved a Bugs Bunny motif front and centre because everyone loves Bugs Bunny, right? RIGHT?! Throw in a couple of 'what's up doc?' and maybe have a carrot prop to hand and it would all be gravy. (I don't get that phrase either.) I accessorised with a thick gold link chain necklace - my thinking being that when worn in fluorescent lighting it would have a blinding effect to onlookers. Crafty ey?!
(A magpie's dream)
I added an array of bracelets in the hope that the delicate jingle jangle would have the same distraction effect as a rattle with a child. And I will unashamedly admit that I was fully prepared to cry 'RATTLE SNAKE!!!' if it became necessary to do so. The resultant outfit was somewhat reminiscent of a Christmas tree but I'd take that over being compared to an upside-down cyclops any day!
(Lastly, laugh is off baby)
As with all traumatic occurrences in life, I have taken something away from this ghastly experience, and that is that next time (sods law is just too strong for this not to happen again) I will forget all of this rigmarole and simply tell any gawkers to, talk to the spot. Possibly paired with a hand gesture for good luck!
(Images via: the manreperller, Pinterest & my own)
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