Never buy budget hold ups. Learnt that the hard way.

Was on a gorgeous, romantic mini-break with my boyfriend in Paris. It was a crisp December night and we were going out for a nice meal. I decided that what would make the evening even more special and romantic would be if I wore my pretty new hold ups. A saucy little surprise for later, if you will. Because we were on a budget and it was a perfect winter evening in Paris we thought we’d walk the 20 mins to the restaurant we had eyed up earlier in the day. This is where my sexy little surprise came unstuck. Apparently cheap hold ups will only hold up when stationary. Within 5 minutes of leaving the hotel my hold ups had decided that they had had enough of my thighs and where they really wanted to be was around my ankles! I felt one beginning to go so I tried to subtly pull it back up through my skirt. An undignified struggle bought me maybe 30 seconds reprieve. The boyf was now beginning to look at me strangely. I smiled sweetly, the other hold up fell below my skirt hem, male laughter ensued. But it is not so funny trying to replace hold ups in public! Tried using the boyf as human shield to rearrange without exposing myself but no luck! The damn things would not stay up! After a particularly strange look from a passer-by when one not-so-hold-up dropped without warning to my ankle I gave up. Cue hunt for most empty but least dubious looking side street and full removal. Scrabbling around a Parisian back alley with barefeet was not where I had seen this evening going. Ended up stuffing the stupid things into my clutch bag and being in huff all evening much to the boyf’s amusement.

Never again! Tights would never have let me down like that…

(Oops, this turned into more of a short story than an anecdote. Procrastination, much??)

My most cringeworthy fashion dilemma did not come about through a wardrobe malfuncation or bad choice of heel height but actually by Henry Holland himself. I had gone for a bite to eat with a fellow intern in Crepe Affair just off Oxford Street and was making what I thought was a great impression on this soon-to-be high flyer of a girl. Suddenly, I clocked my IDOL Henry Holland skipping past outside and my immediate thought was Oh Em Gee I bet he’s off to meet Agyness I HAVE TO FOLLOW HIM!! I said these exact words to fellow intern friend and she said shall we follow him? Thinking I had found my BFF soulmate, I leapt out of my chair, my banana and nutella crepes went flying into her lap and the less said about the neighbouring table the better! She looked up at me in horror and announced she was in fact joking, (bully), and I had to sit down, red faced, losing the chance to meet my favourite designer. BAD day, CRINGE factor 50!

Hi there,

I’ve had an embarassing incident happen to me in the King of incredible cities. New York City. Last summer I had saved up for weeks to go on holiday with my girls to Miami (for the sunshine) followed by New York (for the shopping of course). We arrived in New York early and decided to have a quick breakfast and head straight to the shops. We headed straight to fifth avenue where I went to Macys for some sweet retail therapy. I had been needing some new skinny jeans for a while, and after spying a gorgeous pair of Guess jeans in the sale for $50 I simply couldn’t resist. To my disappointment they only had the size below me available (an 8, I’m usually a 10) but I loved them so much I had to get them on. So with a push a shove, a wiggle, and the help of my giggling friends I got in the jeans! Boom. After paying my $50 I put the jeans straight on and headed out for more shopping with the girls. I seemed to be getting a fair few looks my way and admiring smiles in the new jeans, and I couldn’t be feeling any happier, when Jacie suddenly realised what all the fuss was about. Before I knew it she was on the floor laughing her head off, yet I still didn’t know what she was laughing at. A quick glance in a shop window revealed perhaps I had been two hasty buying the jeans, as I saw a huge split had developed in the back revealing a tacky pink thong and my white english arse. How embarassing! I will certainly not be convincing myself again I am a size 8, when in fact I am not! Thankfully no such other wardrobe disasters followed on the holiday, just as well as I was already the laughing stock of the trip!

Anyway, hope you enjoyed that piece of humiliation and hope I win the lovely tights! :)

Love the Blog Alex,

Take care,

Emily Cater

xx