Posh Frock Saturday

Its posh frock saturday today.

Tonight is the night of our friends Chris and Sue's 25th wedding anniversary and they are hosting a party at their golf club, which just happens to be a very razzy and posh golf club, one of the razziest in Leeds and frequented almost without exception by posh people.

So despite Sue insisting that no-one has to "get dressed up" and that its "not a posh frock do", all of the ladies who are going (I use the term "Ladies" very loosely), (not that they are loose ladies or anything), have all decided that a new posh frock is in order and we gentlemen have spent weeks being dragged around shopping malls having our wallets emptied and cursing Chris for having agreed to host their "do" at his golf club, which he knows is inherently posh, as we tell him every time we see him.

I met Carmel in Asda last night, Carmel is another old friend - her husband and I have been friends since we were five years old, and that is eons ago - and Carmel asked me what I would be wearing for the posh frock do tonight, I shrugged my shoulders and she seemed shocked. She asked me if men deliberatly don't think about what they are wearing on any occasion and I agreed that that was a possible explanation, truth is I don't know what I'll wear and I probably won't know until about ten minutes before I leave the house tonight, I certainly haven't gone out shopping for stuff for the last three weeks.

Tonight the loosely described ladies will compare posh frocks, they will comment on each others posh frocks as they each enter the room, they will talk of how they have searched for weeks for the right accessory, and they will talk on the subject all night.

We menfolk on the other hand will not mention our garb once during the evening, I would curl up and die if one of my friends paid me a compliment (or otherwise) on my shirt or my trousers and I owuld be viewed with great sexual suspicion if I touched or felt a friends shirt or pants and asked him where he'd bought such an item and "my how it matches his eye shadow".

As part of the celebrations Chris has organised a nine hole golf competition for the lads this afternoon, we're not all taking up his offer though, our little group of golfers have not played for over a year and the first hole on one of the posh-ist golf clubs in Leeds is not the place to discover that your vicious right slice has returned to harrass the members watching from the posh golf club windows.

In retribution Sue has invited the loose ladies to an afternoon's pampering at a nearby hotel spa and so they are all going down there after lunch, leaving us non-golfing menfolk to stay at home and sulk, I might just get my golf clubs out of the shed and clean them up, the last time I saw them a couple of weeks ago the bag was covered in mould, another good reason not to turn up at the posh golf club with them this afternoon.

On the other hand I may just paint.