Once when I was about 17, circle stitched bras were all the rage, I wore them but not being well endowed I had a dent not a point…I really was never the ‘sweater I girl’ model was I?
Once I wore false eyelashes in the 70s, dancing cheek to cheek at a dance party, I realised my partner had one stuck to his cheek.
Then with even larger lashes not properly secured at dinner, one fell into the soup with me not realising and then I was screaming ‘Spider!’ to the amusement of my friends. Hard to live down.
Roll on girdles; oh do you remember them? They were the precursor of spanx, that delightful torture was the best passion killer on a date. Not only couldn’t you breathe but they made you feel like you were made of concrete. Forget passion bring out the tin opener. I was not fat either we just thought we should wear them.
I once made the children hysterical when they found me resting with an oatmeal face pack and tea bags on my eyes. A beauty treatment for a night out but first had to settle three traumatised children.
Another beauty fail? Using mayonnaise for a hair pack to moisturise, I smelled like a salad for days, despite washing my hair twice!
The worst feeling? When those too tight tights start to roll down the body, as you scurry away to find privacy they hit the knees and you have to hobble.
I wore those chicken fillets (pads to increase bust size) in my wonder bra, and felt pretty good until one escaped and showed up under my chin. Hard to explain why you have a wedge of flesh coloured padding under the chin.
Oh suspender belts… they were never easy, so much could move or fall off. Those little rubber buttons flew off all the time, so the stocking would then be suspended on one string, and swing round so the seam was then going up the side of your leg, not down the back.
My friend and I admired Audrey Hepburn and her doe eyed look, which was all the rage when I was 16, we did our faces and walked around the shopping centre full of pride, we then saw we looked like startled pandas and escaped to the ladies. I still look like a startled panda some days even now.
No one told me wearing false nails or gel nails would make normal life a hassle, trying to pull up tights? Impossible, typing, difficult, using a cash machine? Stupid, in the end I used my knuckles; husband said I looked like a gorilla. Fail – so no more false nails. Oh and they play havoc with real nails which are left flaky and weak.
Hair products are a minefield, I should not have believed the hair colour on the box; it did not show the fire engine red it would turn out. Same with the purple rinse and a gentle ‘ash’ colour. Each gave me a hectic shade that was definitely not what I aimed for. A resounding fail! Each time it needed a scarf then lots of shampoos. Before I could face the world.
My most recent waste of time? I thought the hair piece I bought ages ago might be nice for a night out. Wanted to feel glamorous. Duh, had it done in an ‘up’ do, waltzed out all hair spray and tendrils. Husband took one look and I knew I had just wasted money, time, and pride, the hair do lasted half an hour. I had it brushed out in five minutes, and we went out with me looking as I always do.