A letter arrives in the post addressed to me. Inside it is an inventory from a company called Stockings HQ with a list of maybe (I am not kidding) fifty pairs of stockings in every shade, variety, sheerness. Why just a letter - why no stockings? Ah, I read on: your order has been dispatched. And why is this addressed to me? I don't care if my husband has an obsession with stockings but if this is addressed to me please do not tell me he has put it on my credit card? I am happy to be the legs inside the stockings but if I have to pay for them too, well isn't that like leg prostitution or something?
Well, we were going to have a romantic weekend to ourselves but our younger daughter Sausage unscrewed the water pump from the fish tank and flooded the sitting room. I don't know if it was a kind of Free Willy attempt to free the fish. Whatever it was it was bloody annoying, especially since we were now forced to punish her by not allowing her to go on a sleepover with her friend (my other daughter was going away camping). Anyway, as luck had it it turned out okay because Sausage went to a mall with us and now that I had almost received my order for the 4,000 stockings my husband's mind turned to the important subject of mules. Yes, unless you have your head in the sand you will know that mules are in. No I don't mean donkeys! I mean platform mules, cork mules, wedgy mules, mules in yellow, orange and blue. We had a few margaritas at Chili's (don't judge me re Chili's - we were in a mall and restaurant options were limited), and then Sausage and I ran around the place buying mules. I bought three pairs of mules. One pair was so high I don't know if I will ever be able to walk in them or even stand.
When I got them home I realized I have about 100 pairs of shoes. Ninety of them are suitable for the bedroom and not for walking and ten can at a pinch be worn to a restaurant.
I am pretty sure that the stocking and shoe situation is now totally out of control. Have any of you ever bought those storage systems (mine's from IKEA) only to find you have fifty boxes of stuff and while it is all tidily out of sight you cannot find anything? Each box is a mess of colorful single stockings. I would do anything for one of those sweet smelling gays from Queer Eye For the Straight Guy to come and sort out the mess that is my wardrobe. And don't even get me started on the tangled garter belts, babydoll nightdresses and assorted fetishwear. It is all about novelty it seems, and once it has been worn once or twice one craves new thrills. But what do do with the old stuff? Can you donate crotchless knickers to a thrift store?
I am penning a letter right now.
Dear Boys at Queer Eye
I am not gay. No really! I am not in the closet. I am a bona fide woman and I need your help. I have a pile of platform shoes, stockings and kinky underwear that is about to explode out of my room. Can you please come over and organize it or help me sort through it and give my unwanted stuff to the Charity For Poor Kinksters.
A Desperate Housewife adrift in a sea of seamed stockings xx
Who am I? Displaced Londoner now living in the States with my two little girlies and long suffering husband. Co-author of hilarious parenting book Cocktails at Naptime www.cocktailsatnaptime.com
My mom's an Austrian, my dad's a Brit, which makes me a Britaustrian, or possibly an Austrish?