I’m Harry Styles’ Mother…

If you want to feel suddenly ancient, do what I did on Friday and go late-night shopping into town right before a One Direction tour date.

The plan was a good one. The Teenager was at a sleepover, the builder was in town and we were going to hit the shops, followed by a drink or two, perhaps a bite to eat. How cosmopolitan and smart I felt as we left the house. Hmm.

Lots of traffic on the way in, got parked, went to the lift. Hordes of tweenagers jumping up and down squealing at each other, comparing glittery eye-shadow and nail varnish.

Swarms of them flooding the shops and restaurants, clutching banners ‘I’m Mrs Styles’, ‘Marry ME Harry’, ‘One Direction – Over Here’. In an instant, I felt very, very old and very dowdy as I remembered Harry was only 19 (19!!) and was born in 1994, two years after I left high school. I was old enough to be his mother.

The builder wanted to buy a new duvet, and as we were standing feeling up different togs and feathers, working our way up and down the row, I felt even older. Duvet shopping. On a Friday night. Where did it all go wrong?

I bought some cards (ooh, they do a lovely selection in John Lewis), vitamins and a new wallet. Exciting. Prematurely old? We decided to cut our losses and head to the bars. We wandered around, checking each of them out. Too trendy, too dark, too small, too many doormen, too big, too loud, too scary. We were a walking, talking Dr Seuss poem.

I stopped outside one of them in horror. ‘Retro Bar – 90’s Music’. Since when were the 90’s retro? Dispirited, we sat outside a fake Spanish tapas bar, glumly sipping our wine (me) and gin and tonic (the builder), watching the skinny, mini-skirted women teetering past on high heels, hair sprayed into submission, faces glowing with anticipation. We muttered to each other, ‘she must be freeeezing’ and ‘why don’t they put a warm jacket on?’

We finished our drinks and went home. I put the cat out, popped my slippers on and settled down for a nice night in front of the telly, the lyrics of ‘Those Were the Days My Friend’ running sadly through my mind. I think it’s time to shake things up a little…

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10 thoughts on “I’m Harry Styles’ Mother…

  1. tony cardis says:

    Welcome to the club, at my place we have “walkabouts” where you go from pub to pub.
    I’ve joined the “sitabout” group where we get to the first pub find a seat and never move, we then put the world to right and find people move away from us and give us space.

    • stumbling in flats says:

      I’m definitely a grumpy old git now, lol. Having a sitabout is a pretty good idea – I like! And I also like putting the world to rights….

  2. Nothing quite like tweenagers to make you feel like a fossil! (And when did they become so scary?! I am totally intimidated by crowds of teens.)

    Console yourself with the fact that you went *out* — that’s a big improvement over staying in and watching Kitchen Nightmares in stretchy pants and a terrycloth cardigan. (Not that I did this. I’m just grabbing a random example.)

    • stumbling in flats says:

      Hiya Cranky!
      I can cope with one or two on their own, but a whole horde/gang/throng of them makes me want to run to the nearest exit. I can’t remember being that cocky and sure of myself. IN MY DAY, etc, etc.
      I was actually quite stunned to find myself going out – as always The Teenager told me last minute. I was very glad to get home.
      I am now attempting to be all crafty and assemble my Easter branches. May be a bit early, but if I’m going to put in this much effort, I want everyone to get the chance to see it, lol.

  3. I believe your Easter craft merits a picture – perhaps with Wee Bobble? You could have a global audience…people are still talking about my blogged-about craft project “Ugh.”

    (In no way does this imply yours is crap, as was “Ugh” — I’m sure it’s charming!)

    • stumbling in flats says:

      Your wish is my command, Ms Crankypants! As you can see, it took me ages and ages. It’s all in the placement, natch.
      I have hidden the tacky yellow Easter chicks from view…x

      • I commented on your post above – but I neglected to say now you KNOW I just am dying to see those tacky chicks…

        • stumbling in flats says:

          Ha! No-one gets to see the tacky chicks, lol. I have chucked them out. I am channeling beauty…(I am writing this comment with my face covered in plaster, long story).

  4. Julie says:

    Hello Stumbling in Flats. Thought I would chip in here, I am curious about your Easter branches, what are they? I am crafty too. Me: In my 40’s, 1 teenager and 1 nearly teenager. Diagnosed with stroke 06/12. Diagnosed with 2nd stroke 01/13. Another episode 02/13 and an mri and they decided I have not had any strokes but have ms. 1st official app with neurologist in may after VER test and brain/spine mri. Lumbar to follow too – yikes!

    • stumbling in flats says:

      Hi Julie!
      Blimey, you’ve had a terrible time of it. I hope you get some answers in May – keep us updated! Try not to worry too much about lumbar puncture, most of us sail through it….just lie flat as long as you can!!!
      My Easter branches – see pic above – just some willow branches I picked up at John Lewis (cheaper than florist!) and I popped some of those little eggs on it. I actually picked up most of them at the random gift shop in my local hospital.
      No idea when I first started doing this (and why!). Just looks kind of Spring-y. I hope!

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