You decide to get dressed up and put on the diamonds your husband gave you when the fruit of your womb and his loins decided to make an appearance. And wonder whether you need police escort. And you pull out a heavy duty designer genius brocade and tissue patchwork top with copper accents bought from fancy store with salespersons with personal pedicurists. And dig out the exact pair of matching python copper slipons that you almost hawked your life savings to buy because you got it on sale, or would have never ever bought at full price.
And top the look with a pair of well fitting pale blue jeans from Next for that slight touch of rebellion against the matching matching you have forced on yourself in a bid to be yummy mummy at a function where you will no doubt be assaulted by many yummy mummies, this being annual day at school.
And your mother looks at you top to bottom, curls her lips disapprovingly, and says, “You couldn’t find anything to wear that didn’t make you look like a quilt?”