Last night I went into London to meet my oldest friend, (no, not as in a 65 year old, as in I have known her since I was 9 months old).
I was fretting before I went because I don't have going out clothes anymore.
My wardrobe is full of either wedding outfits or jeans and tops. Nothing fancy in between.
After feeding the kids, cleaning the bathrooms (why I did this before I went out instead of spending precious time getting ready, I will never know), stacking the dishwasher, putting the toys away, I had a time frame of twenty minutes to get ready.
I went Topshop blue silk number with my trusty jeans and Converse pumps.
I looked a bit like an art student. I trekked into London carrying the heavy weight of my unplucked eyebrows on and off stinky Tube trains.
My friend, who I hadn't seen for about 18 months, looked amazing. Jaw droppingly, highly groomed, lost loads of weight gorgeous.
It was lovely to see her, but it did zilch for the confidence.
Today, eyes - bloodshot red, skin - grey, head - aching, food - bacon sandwich, I feel like I just want to crawl under the nearest stone and not come out until someone has sprinkled me with beauty dust.