Ah, the wardrobe malfunction. You know it, I know it. Everyone has had them from minor to extreme and they always, always suck. Somehow this week I’ve managed to have several, which in isolation would have been fine, but as a group seemed pretty close to being the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Which has me thinking, somewhat whimsically, if the prominence of wardrobe malfunctions is somehow reflecting the state of my life? Things have really felt off kilter this week. Workplace frustration and overwhelm, anxiety being all pushy, cold days pissing buckets… but really the list starts and ends with this feeling of ‘what now?’ because things feel sort of stilted and stuck and this can’t, surely, be it.

The thing is, it hasn’t all been laddered stockings and new knitwear catching on every sharp object within a 30 mile radius – though that has certainly been in the mix.

The kicker was a trip to my local shopping centre with an enormous split up the back seam of my jeans…

(Please send flowers to the cemetery as I am now deceased).

Any semblance of put-together-ness has disappeared in a hail of pulled threads and exposed underwear. That tiny, flickering light that shone because I was an adult human capable of navigating life? Replaced by the high burning inferno of embarrassment.

Correlation does not always equal causation but I’m asking the question anyway, because I don’t feel like I’ve ever accidentally exposed my bits when things have been feeling especially magical. Have I subconsciously willed these incidences into being through my own special brand of malaise? Is it like how clutter can affect your brain or how skinny jeans prevent proper hip extension which has its own rebound effects? More realistically, are wardrobe malfunctions a metaphor… for life?

These are the questions I have.

Regardless, the solution seems to be always wear good underwear and don’t cheap out on your hosiery so if you need me I’ll be at the shops (online, not in person obviously, because I am clearly never leaving the house again).

‘Til next time,