The hen night, a view of a world I don't see much and the people walking the streets at 3am making a difference part 1.

Abigail, Susie and me.

Well THAT was an interesting night!

Me at a night club in Chester , on the dance floor at nearly 2am!!!

Not an everyday occurrence.

The last time I was in Rosie's was 20 years ago, when a group of friends took me to my first ever night club for a farewell send off just before we left for Prague.

So , last night, was infact my second night club experience.

I lead a sheltered life!

So what was the reason for me coming out of night club hibernation after so long?

Being invited along to my eldest daughter's hen night. When she found out I had been invited by her best friend she was far from impressed. 'why do YOU want to come'. hmm, not the reaction I was anticipating. I had hoped for more enthusiasm, an empathy with the fact I was undergoing emotional hell at the mere thought of what to wear, or perhaps a nod that she had a really 'cool' mother. But no.

She slowly warmed to the idea, and the fact that one of the other bridesmaids mothers had been invited along with the groom mother as well. Probably relieved she would not have to entertain me all night.

Daughter no 3, had been invited as well. She was also less than impressed I was coming, but from her point of view this was based on the knowledge of how drunk she gets and what an embarrassment that would be with her mother looking on!

Having spent most of the last month:

a. Stressing about what to wear

b. trying on outfits

c. buying outfits and taking them back

d. Despairing over ever finding an outfit

e. Despairing over everything else!

I rapidly concluded that a night out for me is more stressful than work, giving birth or infact anything else in my life at present!

In the end procrastination won.

I simply buried my head in the sand, until 5.20pm to be precise when I had to get ready.

Not helped by the fact I cannot fit most of my wardrobe still, I turfed what I could find out on the bed.

Surveying the carnage before me I realised I have very very little to 'go out' in. I have plenty of work clothes and casual clothes but not any in that specific category.

Thank the lord for the invention of Lycra, lots of it, spandex infact.

A lot of huffing and puffing saw my figure reduced considerably.

Hence the double chin- my belly fat, I am convinced had been squashed up to my neck (well that's what it felt like). I realised the toilet would be a half hour contortionist act to say the very least.

Outfit one was rejected. Good, saved myself £60.

Outfit two was also rejected, at the gain of £55.

One of my friends had advised me just to choose something I felt comfortable in. Deep in my wardrobe I found my old (15 years) faithful 'posh' shoes. I located my beige chinos that are comfy and the only addition was a top I had found reduced from £120 to £16.99- gotta love TK MAXX!

I was feeling quite proud of myself and my very low budget outfit. Susie had gone, so I reached for Bella for the 'teenage/younger persons' approval. 

'Wear a belt' she said.

So I did.
With all honesty, next too 10 beautiful, young, slim and very glamourously dressed girls, I cannot say I felt good about myself, however I did at least feel I had gone to enough trouble not to look too out of place. I don't think I would have managed 6 inch killer heels, and a skimpy dress! At my age, it's a very fine line between looking trendy and looking a tramp! I decided to steer well clear of those analogies!
By the end of the evening I had located the quick toilets where I was left alone to heave my way out of my lycra in peace. My feet killed me. My head banged (not through alcohol but rather loud music and having to shout over it. My throat killed (for the same reason as before) but, to my utter surprise I had enjoyed myself. I made it to 3 am, did shots, danced like a wooden plank, sang my heart out, took photos, spoke to random strangers and carted daughter no 3 back to the mini bus.
Hen nights?
I am a pro!