Subtle or Slutty?

This is a question I have asked myself a few times. I always follow the golden rule: legs or boobs, never both. This is mainly because I don't have any boobs worth speaking of, and I am generally happier when my legs are covered. But that is by the by; I am always cautious.

So comes this evening. There is, once again, a 21st birthday in need of celebrating. And the outfit that popped into my head? A navy blue playsuit, loose belt, heart print sheer tights and stacked heels. As well as a jacket - a necessity in this Newcastle weather.

All fine there apart from one problem - the playsuit is totally and completely backless. This means no bra, which as I mentioned before is no problem. But backless? That means my whole back on show, in case you weren't sure. I have dared to bare before, and did feel conscious the whole night.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Why wear it then? Mae it easier, just wear something else! But I have that age old problem of once something is stuck in my head, that's it. It's a very similar feeling to the sensation you get when you're out shopping, looking for an outfit that's a big deal, for a prom or a wedding. And you get that 'perfect' dress in your head before you leave - the cut, colour, how you'll feel when you're in it. So you give yourself the impossible task of finding that impossible outfit thus setting yourself up for inevitable failure. We've all been there, and it's not pretty. This is exactly how this feels.

So it comes to 7pm, and time to get ready. For those who think this is early, as with all birthdays, 'party time' starts when you're told, and considering tonight's kicks off at 6.30pm, , I intend on being fashionably late. Not because I am trying to be cool, as I would fail, but because if I start on the vino then I would have to be carried to bed at 9pm. Seriously.

Anyway, I did the usual: shower, moisturise, hair (which was a no brainer, considering it was in-between-washes-day and the decision to change from dark to blonde and back again has resulted in me only being able to wash it every other day, as I have fallen victim to colour fade and end up resembling a fudge. This is something beyonce and Kimberley from Girls Aloud can pull off, but me? No. So I am piling it on top of my head today after a can of dry shampoo and hoping for the best), pulled on everything including heels, and started at the suit.

Hmmmmm. Now this is tricky. From the front, we're okay. As long as it isn't cold anyway. But the back is bare. Fully out. To back or not to back? Back out? (sorry) Do I dare to bare?

In short, the answer is no. The back was surprisingly okay, definitely could get away with it. The problem was the ass. Who on earth put together a playsuit that finishes before the ass??!! either I have grown, the suit has shrunk, my ass has grown (most likely) or I went out before with my ass pout and no idea of its presence. Either way, not a good look, not by any body's standards. Definitely slutty.

So I emptied both my wardrobes, tried on everything. Twice. Weeped a little, before before settling (and I mean settling) on shiny leggings and a long black top with cream detailing on the neckline. I added a waist belt to try and make myself feel slightly thinner, before realising my hair was greasier than I thought, and weeping some more. I had no time to re-do my make up, so had to leave on the blue eyeliner from my previous outfit. It went so well with outfit number one but not so well with number two hundred and four.

So I did what anyone would do in my situation, and went out feeling totally, and utterly rubbish. I put all my faith in Mr Vodka and Mr orange juice and thankfully, they didn't let me down. Fingers crossed next week outfit recycle session is a lot more successful.