A few weeks ago I went on a fabulous week-long trip to Las Vegas in order to witness my gorgeous friend C’s wedding to her now-husband P. In a nutshell I believe I can sum up the entire experience in 4 words: Mind-blowing, hilarious, messy and knackering. Anyway, during the time I was out there I did happen to have a little fashion misdemeanour – all the bride’s fault, may I add, but still a huge misdemeanour nonetheless….
Ok, so on the evening of C’s ‘Official Hen Night’ we decided that fancy dress was in order. But not just some half-hearted devil horns or fairy wings..Oh no. We are talking the shortest-of-the-short sailor dresses and stockings from superb fancy dress retailer Leg Avenue. When I say short, I really mean short. We are talking bum-skimming and (not in my case) cleavage-flashing. There wasn’t a lot left to the imagination I can tell you. However, a few shots of vodka (swilled either straight from the bottle or from a plastic Bellagio cup pinched from round the pool) later and we were all embracing the idea and the cackling had commenced. During the aforementioned ‘vodka-fest’ hosted in our shared room, the other bridesmaids and I conspired to hire a male stripper to come up and surprise C. We figured this sort of activity would fit in with the overall theme of the evening (by theme I mean the loose theme of ‘sl***-sailor-fancy-dress-wearing-vodka-swilling-maniac-women’). After hearing a knock on the door, C opened it to be greeted by ‘Sebastian’ dressed as a sailor captain. I tell you what, Sebastian actually looked a little scared. But, to be fair to him, he snapped out of it like a pro and proceeded to strip down to some little red pants and gyrate up against C. Honestly, I couldn’t stand up I was laughing so much:
But little did I know I would soon be laughing on the other side of my face…When Sebastian asked C to, “pick a girlfriend for some lovin’ treatment,” who do you think C chose? Yes, that’s right. Me. Actually I believe her exact words were, “go on Yates-Round, I know you can take it!!”
Sebastian proceeded to throw me on the bed, hold my legs in the air and, erm, well, simulate a few intimate positions. He then made me stand up and bent me over, thus revealing my big red knickers underneath my dress with ‘HELLO SAILOR’ emblazoned on my backside. But, sadly, it wasn’t only the knickers he revealed – he also revealed the 12-14 size sticker (only size left in good old Primark) I had forgotten to peel off my bottom. Brilliant. He then, to my horror, decided to pull on my hair whilst bending me over meaning a handful of my clip-in hair extensions came out in his hand. The poor bloke. As if being subjected to my sticker-clad bottom (remember, in the US a size 12-14 is the equivalent of 16-18) wasn’t enough, I then made him think he had ripped a chunk of my hair out. I’ve never seen a man so grateful to leave a room before in my life ;)
Just because I feel I left whatever grace and dignity I have ever had back in Vegas – here was the exact moment, kindly captured on camera by C herself…
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