The lying, the stick and the wardrobe

WHEN was the last time you thought: “They’re talking about me.”
I don’t mean when you come out of the toilet with your skirt tucked into your pants, or when fingers are being pointed when words are whispered.
I mean when something is said on a TV programme or in a song and you instantly recognise yourself or can relate to the words.
This was the case last week when I consulted Trinny and Susannah for my Tuesday night tutorial of What Not to Wear.
I’d watched the previous week’s story of a Highland estate worker’s transformation into a sassy city butterfly, and was determined not to miss the next episode, when the magical duo would transform two people of my age and social position.
It’s amazing how many people hide behind their clothes; trying to use the colours and impact to make up for what they feel they lack.
One of the subjects featured in this week’s show was a medical student whose wardrobe of ‘auld manny shirts’ and ethnic prints were unsuitable for her chosen career.
As Trinny and Susannah battled with her to show off her redeeming features, the story behind her low self worth and body image came to light.
It’s a very important subject that I think all teenage old girls should become aware of. The ‘Beautiful People’ or ‘popular ones’ at school are only that from their own making. There is nothing special about them that you don’t have about you.
This girl had become so introverted, because of what she thought other people thought about her, that she had recoiled into this androgenous, squared-off shape, so as to not gain any attention, good or bad.
She’d got to the stage when she couldn’t accept a compliment, even from her own boyfriend, after years of jokey comments and digs from friends and colleagues.
I find the situation really frustrating now. When you are a young girl, you really believe the things that people are saying and you build up this image of yourself.
In my personal experience these people are usually adolescent boys.
If someone says to you: “They’re only being like that because they like you,” don’t believe it. If that was the case I should have been Miss World with all the ‘attention’ I used to get. Besides, the fact they were telling me I was ugly gave it away.
Years later they tell you what they said was only a joke, or was to keep in with the crowd at school ‘cos that’s what you do’. What they don’t realise is their comments snowballed and made you into the person you are today.
I’d just noted down the points Trinny and Susannah had given, when I turned the channel to be faced with another dilemma.
Now that I’d mastered how to dress for my age fashionably, I was forced to think about a future of facial hair and bodyshaper knickers.
Yes, I’m talking of course about the Grumpy Old Women on BBC 2, giving me warnings like once the middle age spread starts “don’t think it’s going to magically contract like it used to when you were in your twenties.”
Having a different dress size just about every month, these started a timebomb deep inside me, which quickened as the programme went on.
Sheila Hancock, Germaine Greer, Annette Crosby et al were all once young beautiful, and for their time fashionable women, who like me probably never thought age would never change them.
But that’s the thing, no matter how we try to stick to our own path, social perception and a personal need for acceptance are always going to play a part in how our life turns out.
I love What Not to Wear as it shows it’s really not that bad being you; all you need are a few cosmetic changes which can do a world of good to your inner well-being and confidence.
I get the impression that Susannah Constantine is a walking, talking example of this. I’m not really fussed about what Trinny says as, like half the show’s viewers, I’m not and never will, or look, be anything like her. But in Susannah I see a ‘normal’ person who struggles constantly to keep up with the natural glamour of her ‘popular’ co-presenter.
While it is easy for me to say be who you want to be, it may not necessarily be who you should be. I’ll leave all the self-confidence tricks to my learned colleagues.
Judy Garland once said: “It’s better to be a first-rate version of yourself than a second-rate version of someone else,” and I suppose that sums it up better than I could ever do.