For about a micro-second, I considered snapping a Christine Keeler style photograph of me behind my sewing machine – but then realised that would be one of the most stupid decisions of my life, putting such a thing on the Internet. (But wouldn’t it have been fun? Perhaps I should do it anyway, for my own amusement.)
Anyway, today’s True Confession is possibly the most shocking of the three so far. Or maybe not. Maybe I’m not alone in this…
Sometimes, when I’m sewing an outfit, I get fed up of climbing out of one outfit to climb into a dress-in-progress to check fit and tweak, to climb back out of it, to climb back into my original clothes, to go back to the sewing machine, to make an adjustment, to climb out of… You get the picture. It’s so much effort!
So sometimes I just throw caution to the wind and sew in my underwear. You think that’s bad? My sewing machine is at a sash window and I don’t bother closing the blind. Too. Much. Effort.
Oh, sod it! I think. If some damn fool wants to gawp at my raddled old body, that’s their look out.
I know my attitude divides people. I’ve had boyfriends yelp with shock more than once when I wander naked past a bedroom window. I just can’t be arsed. Really, who’s looking? (Though I did once get caught out in a New York hotel room, when I tried to jiggle the window open in my undies. Jiggle being the operative word. I don’t know who was more shocked when I finally looked up and saw the builder in the block opposite, talking on his cell phone and casually watching me. Never has a person flung themselves back on a bed so quickly as I.)
So should I cover up now I’ve got that off my chest? Or are there others out there who sew semi-naked? I mean, on a hot summer day… Isn’t it the sensible choice? Confess all, my friends – or show me the light!