Karma is a bitch.  Or it’s a good thing, depending which side you’re looking from.

Remember that horrible lady from the Introduction Agency who refused to match me with anyone due to my negative attitude (when I’d actually just asked why she’d matched me with someone after disastrous dates 1 and 2)?  I waffled in a very lengthly way about it and lots of you gave me advice, kind words and suggested I name and shame online.  I didn’t, because I had a feeling….  It took a few months to happen, but sure enough, I got a mail last week saying that the business was being closed after having very little success.  If she treated other paying customers like me, I’m not surprised.  I think that might be karma.

But if that is the case, after last night’s post, I thought it might be wise to redress the silly photo balance.  When I posted about the yoga retreat last week, I included pictures from a 1978 yoga magazine where the men were in pants and the women were in Lycra.  It resulted in a Facebook conversation about the fact that yes, I did have a ‘cat suit’ in the 80’s and no, I would not be wearing it to my yoga class, but yes, if I could find a picture, I’d post it here.

I found a picture.  I’m grateful for once that my mum was truly terrible with the camera back then, and that in those days we didn’t have zoom lenses.  It means you can’t see me properly, but as promised, you can see below when I was around 5, 6 and 7ish respectively and how my ‘sense of fashion’ (a hilarious concept if you know me) developed:

The sensible tracksuit, aged five.

The black leotard, aged six (Well, you can make out the leotard, just not much else!)

And the electric blue catsuit, complete with wrap cardigan (which I LOVED), aged 7 ish

It turns out I didn’t have legwarmers then – I remember having real legwarmer envy of the girl behind me in this picture though. AND she had a two tone leotard / legging combo. It just wasn’t fair.

And just because they were in the same albums, and because I am making things up to you Little Pea, here’s a possible reason why I ended up being a smoker.  I’m five:

(It wasn’t lit, honest!)

And this is when we went camping in Dorset when I would have been about 8 – so 1984.  Was I the only one back then to have such an appalling taste in hair do’s?! (which I assume I must have slept in as I am in my pyjamas)

There’s a bad hair day, and then there is this…

I hope that redresses the balance when it comes to making Little Pea look a bit daft last night.  I think it’s safe to say I now look far dafter :o)