The short answer, is that I was bullied But more accurately, I allowed myself to be bullied, which is not quite the same thing. I have a friend who completely despairs of me in a fashion sort of sense, and is on a crusade to make me take a deeper (or should that be shallower?!) interest in clothes. I have repeatedly told her that her attempts are doomed to failure, but she was rather upset when we met up yesterday lunchtime, having been given a pay rise which was far below inflation, and in order to distract her from crying and using up the stock of tissues which I desperately needed to combat my hay fever, I told her that I urgently needed to buy a new swimsuit and that I required her assistance in choosing one.

The fact that I could do with a new swimming costume was not entirely a lie. To say it was urgent was perhaps a slight exaggeration, but nevertheless the email confirmation I got about the IJK the other day reminded me that I needed to pack a swimsuit and that mine is a trifle old. That is to say, I bought it when I was 11 and needed a navy one for going to secondary school. It’s done pretty well to last 13 years, but the problem is that in that period I have changed shape slightly and so it’s long since ceased to fit terribly well It wouldn’t be impossible to wear it in public as it fortunately doesn’t have my 25 metres badge sewn to it, but it is a bit boring so I was planning to buy one which fitted and was a nicer colour. If swimsuits last me on average 13 years, I figured I could afford the expense.

I wasn’t, however, prepared for two things. The first being the distinct lack of swimsuits in the shops. When I say “swimsuit” I mean a nice one-piece sort of thing which covers as much of me as possible. My friend did give me a funny look when I expressed an intention to buy such a thing, and she proved to have a point because pretty much the only shops where we could find that style were old-people-shops, and generally involved all sorts of strange contraptions and padding for holding in bits of you that might otherwise stick out. Hmmm. Further, when we did find suitable examples, they were all in the region of £25. Call me mean if you like, but I’d deem that expensive for a pair of trousers, never mind a flimsy little thing I’m only going to wear once a year.

It was at this point which my friend decided to drag me kicking and screaming into Primark, where she promised me that I’d be able to find a swimsuit for under £5. It seemed like an attractive proposition. We located the swimwear section, and I was favourably impressed by the prices… but less impressed by the fact that I couldn’t find any sufficiently decent styles Are one-piece swimsuits really so out of fashion with the under fifties?

In order to placate my friend, I therefore eventually agreed to buy a bikini (note that by the use of clever wording, I only agreed to buy one, not wear one) on the condition that the cost did not exceed £3. She found me one for £3 exactly which is blue and not bad as these things go, but nevertheless I am most definitely not a bikini sort of person. I’m of the firm impression that one should only expose so much flesh if one has a totally flat stomach, and my own stomach is most definitely not flat, nor likely to become so in the near future. I refrained from making that point too strongly, however, as my friend’s stomach is somewhat less flat than mine and she apparently wears such garments all the time So yeah, for the first time in my life I am the embarrassed owner of a bikini, a fact which I shall refrain from mentioning to my mother as I think that she might have a fit To be fair, it does actually fit perfectly well and appears to have been designed for a flat chested person which is always a bonus I think, however, that on the balance of probabilities it is far more likely to languish in my sock drawer than be taken on holiday, and that I will still be calling on my trusty 13 year old costume To be honest, I am still a little luke warm about the idea of swimming in a lake anyway. I don’t like the idea of being touched by a fish.

What hadn’t occurred to me at the start of my lunch hour was that once I allowed my friend to get me into Primark, it would be rather a mission to get her let me out again. A slip of the tongue revealed the dreadful truth that I do not own a pair of shorts. Apparently, I can not go on holiday without a pair of shorts. I pointed out that I have been going on holiday in a very fulfilling manner for a good 12 years without owning a pair of shorts, but this didn’t appear to register with her. Shorts, it seems, are essential in order to prevent my legs from overheating, so off we went to find some.

Primark actually didn’t appear to be doing a very extensive line in shorts, once we ruled out those which were in fluorescent colours. I’m sorry, I refuse to wear fluorescent colours, as they significantly hinder my chief aim in life of nobody noticing I am in a room In the end, we found a grand total of one pair of shorts which were in a size eight. They’re a rather unpleasant sludgy khaki sort of colour. That is to say, I find it unpleasant but apparently it’s a perfectly normal colour for shorts. Now I whilst I object to shorts on principle because I dislike showing any leg whatsoever, I might be induced to wear some if it really was terribly hot, so long as they were sort of nice and loose. I wasn’t able to try these on in the shop because it was so busy and our lunchtime was limited, but when I got home I found these shorts were actually quite tight. Not tight as in they don’t fit on the waist – they do indeed fit perfectly – but tight as in tight on the legs which is clearly the style. Taking into account that, and the fact that they really are very short, I am failing to see an opportunity I am going to have for wearing them and am consoling myself with the fact that they are only £2

I was also made to purchase a skirt. The skirt is a similar sort of colour but is highly preferable because it comes down almost to the knee and so leg showage is minimised in an acceptable manner. Despite the fact I never wear skirts, I might conceivably wear this one I also got a top which is actually very nice despite the fact it has flowers on, and I thus will wear. I was forced to buy another top too – a loose smocking sort of affair in a style which I really can’t see the point of. I objected to it so strongly that in the end my friend gave me the quid back for it to shut me up I can’t imagine that I am ever going to go anywhere so warm I will want to wear a blouse which is so floaty there’s actually room for two of me in it, but I think I will keep it in case I ever have the misfortune to fall pregnant. It is the sort of style which would be admirable for wearing whilst pregnant!

Other than that, I just got two T shirts of a reasonably nondescript nature, apart from the fact that I don’t like T shirts which have straps rather than sleeves. What is the point? If you wear a bra, you look daft because everyone can see your straps. If you don’t wear a bra, you look daft because everyone can see you’re not wearing a bra. Admittedly you could fork out for one of those bras with see-through straps, but I drew the line at that! So, erm, I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do with those either. But all in all, I got an awful lot of clothes for twenty quid, which is it would have cost me for a swimsuit alone elsewhere, so I’m starting to think that Primark may in fact have advantages.