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The Influence of Television…
Over the weekend – where visits to Ikea, garden centres and so on were made less pleasurable by the flurry of snow – it occurred to me that I really don’t have enough jumpers. Nestling in the bottom of one of my drawers are a couple of quite slinky tight-fitting little numbers, admittedly, but until I have managed to pump up the physique considerably more I felt ill-inclined to wear them. Essentially a more chunky and standard look is definitely what I was short of, I thought
So last night, prior to a lovely evening of boozing in the Duke of Wellington with a friend of mine, I hit Oxford Street (with all the unutterable awfulness that entails) and rectified the problem with a few choice purchases. In retrospect I’m not sure the Lemon was a good idea – it occurs that more muted colours seem to suit me best – but certainly I now have an array of sweaters from which to choose.
And so this morning saw me struggling into one of said jumpers (I’ve managed to knacker my shoulder overnight somehow, which is agony), pottering round the house a bit doing my usual routine and leaving for work.
It was only when I paused to do a quick check of my attire before heading out the door that I suddenly realised that my entire look clearly echoed that of a TV character loved by millions. There in the mirror, with his short hair, big ears, maroon sweater and half-length black leather jacket stood the Ninth Doctor.
I cursed inwardly and scurried out the door before the flatmate could see. Because he would doubtless have pointed and laughed.
Posted on March 26, 2008 | Filed Under Film, TV, Theatre, My So-Called Life
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Response left by Pandemonia on April 3rd, 2008
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Ha!