A weekend in the north, more specifically, Blackpool and Fleetwood, requires careful packing. Something I suspect I’ve failed at. I always forget something crucial (a habit I had when I was a little girl and would leave toothbrushes or nightdresses at home and arrive at pyjama parties slightly less than fully equipped). This weekend’s packing was no different – I remembered my toothbrush but not a nightie.
This is probably because pride comes before a fall and I always take great pride in how small a bag I can pack for a weekend and how much stuff I can get into it.
The size of this weekend’s bag made men as well as women marvel. The biscuit cruncher also commented on how the bag looked more expensive than it was. Good news, since it cost me the glorious price of £6 from Primark. G looked slightly stunned when I told him what I’d managed to fit in it:
a pair of heels
a box with some secret hen outfit accessories in it
three tops and a skirt
a notebook and a couple of pens
my purse, phone and other usual bits and pieces
food for the journey
Truly I have become a modern day Mary Poppins. Just without a nightie.