Do you remember ‘getting ready to go out’? I do, with great nostalgia. It involved a fog of hairspray, clouds of perfume, lashings of eyeliner, and friends with whom to talk about how the night may go, who might kiss whom, etc.
Times have changed. The last big night I went out on involved dashing from the office to my house, pulling on a pair of tights so quickly that I laddered them then swore copiously (and wore them anyway), pulled a dress on only to realise it needed an iron (and also wore it anyway), then applied a bit of powder, a few squirts of perfume, and dashed out the door.
