Nov 17th… ‘Shopping for Lesbian Biscuits.’

‘Mum, have you noticed that I favour plaid.’

‘What’s PLAD?’ She crunched. ‘Is it another one of your new terms?’

‘No Mum, plaid, you know, flasks, lumberjacks, highland toffee, cowgirls, picnic blankets.’

I think it’s fascinating that so many lesbians are drawn to a checked shirt, myself included. There must be a plaid loving lesbian going through the tills at Hollister every few seconds.

‘I had a beautiful dogtooth check coat once, it was magnificent.’ Mum crunched.

‘I remember that coat, you gave it me.’

‘Oh yes, I did love, it looked belting on you. It would be a bit tight on the arms for both of us now though.’ She crunched.

‘Why do you think I like plaid shirts Mum?’

‘I don’t really know love, but I know you don’t like shopping and you certainly don’t like trying things on.’

I do find changing rooms, stressful and soul destroying. I heard a conspiracy theory once where the bright overhead lighting and fairground mirrors are installed to make you look like your breasts are longer, your hips are wider and your cellulite is taking over the planet. 

I know there will be women, (including those who splash their pink pound all over Cheshire Oaks) picking their jaws up off the floor and uncurling their toes in their Kurt Geiger’s right now but, I’m sorry it’s true.

I don’t like clothes shopping. 

I feel like I’m letting the side down but I can totally see where men are coming from, when they are left lingering outside a cubicle when they could be downing a pint in the pub.

Food shopping I love, charity shops I find alluring, I even get a kick out of rummaging through a skip, but what I have to admit is this…

I’m a ‘cross dresser.’

I choose patterns created by bars and stripes of colour that cross at right angles. 

I can’t help it, my eyes are quickly drawn to loosely fitting pieces of fabric with this particular pattern on it and I know I’m not the only one, peruse the audience at a Pink concert and you’ll see more of my kind.

When I find the strength, I scan each bright, unflatteringly lit store for something simple, casual, comfy and reasonable. 

Burberry have cunningly lured me in the past but nowadays I just look down at my converse, stay focussed and head towards the clearance isles.

There is only one exception and that’s because it’s FULL of clearance isles.

TK Maxx. I love it!!!! 

It’s like a carboot sale but without the smell of onions.

I can be in and out of TK’s within the hour. 

Once I hear ‘Cashier number 9 please.’ I’m up there enthusiastically tipping random plaid items into the arms of the check out girl. 

Minutes later I’m walking back through the car park banging my new 5 year wardrobe into my calves. 

Well I could before I increased my intake of lesbian biscuits. Now I have three wardrobes. One for clothes that Jen and I share together and the other for jeans that fitted me before I met her and… 

one for vests.

‘Here, are you having another frangipane before I take them away?’

‘No thanks Mum, please take them away.’

There is nothing more satisfying than buying 20 new pairs of knickers, 10 vests, 3 hoodies, 6 pairs of pyjama bottoms, 4 jackets, two coats and a non stick pan all at once. 

I am in my element. 

‘Not everything in your wardrobe is plaid though is it love? Mum slurped.

‘Well no, not everything Mum, I have got other things, some with rainbow coloured polka dots, stars and pinstripes all over them.’

‘Yes, I know love, but those are your clown suits.’

17/11/2020