Fashion Plate Y

I decide that now that I'm on a break, I should experiment some more with what I wear.

I dig through my messy cupboard and find a particularly smart spaghetti-strapped black-and-white top. It's a bit of a tight squeeze, but with some help from the husband, I manage to slip it on. It's looking fairly nice with the jeans, although he mutters something about why I buy clothes two sizes too small. I remind him that I have given him two sons at the same time two years ago and that he better watch it.

I gaze in the mirror, pausing to admire the effect, and then think, wait - this is just a little bit bold. Just too slinky somehow for me, by itself. I rummage through the cupboard some more and find a light white shirt, which I sling on over it. I stand back and look at myself. Yes. This is perfection.

I walk out into the drawing room to slip on my shoes. My husband, who is already tying his shoelaces, pauses to look up at me and exclaims with pure delight

'Mithun-da!'

I stare at him.

Crushed, I go back to change into normal clothes.