Holiday dressing and how most Brits get it terribly wrong (at least those who frequent Mallorca do)

Many things I saw on my recent holiday to Mallorca made me ashamed to be British. Particularly people's clothing choices. I swear most people have a 'holiday wardrobe' which is stuffed away in the back of the wardrobe until it is brought out in time for the annual Spanish jaunt.

Here is my top ten chart of 'Brits abroad' fashion disasters. Warning, please do not read if you're easily offended. This post may contain elements of body fascism.

10. Gypsy tops. A key part of the costumes worn by 90's pop group Steps and featured in some of Girls Aloud's early photo shoots (Kimberley the demure cow girl anyone?). For those that cannot recall, we're talking wide, elasticated neckline (so lots of sexy 'off the shoulder' possibilities), wide elasticated waistband (so lots of opportunities to wear as a crop top thus displaying some tanned midriff) with a big poofy bit in the middle. Bascially, great for making you look fat. A favourite of the 'mutton' clan.

9. Body con. The resort we stayed in was a huge family resort. Great as there were very few lager louts. Even nicer to see lots of teenage children holidaying with their parents, how civilised, I really hope that my future children will love their parents enough to want to holiday with them beyond the age of 13. Having said that, there was a glut of 15 year old Cheryl Cole wannabes, all in body con. Holiday with your parents by all means, but trust me, your Dad does not need to see your undercarriage. And neither do I.

8. White. Yes I know, it shows off a tan. Blah blah, not if you're sunburned it doesn't, it makes you look like an overweight lobster pseudo-bride. Plus I can see your (lack of) undies.

7. String bikinis. Only for those aged 16 -30, absolutely not for anyone of any age with a d cup or over. Demi Moore is obviously exempt from these rules.

6. Speedos. Obviously no comment needed here.

5. Deck shoes. A controversial one this as some people in the world are actually cool enough to get away with these. My good friend Captain soon to be Major Charnock wears his rather well (I have to say this else he'll mow me down with his tank), I should imagine my husband's supremely cool cousins or Sarah Crabtree would wear them very well, maybe with a floaty skirt and a couple of layered vests. I'm probably just jealous cos I'm not one of these cool people, being of the large footed variety I should imagine I would just look like, well a middle class, suburban, never been on a deck in your life bloke actually. Sadly, not many of the people in Majorca weren't cool enough for deck shoes either. I think, unless you're one of the people mentioned above, or you actually own a yacht, don't go there.

4. Jelly Shoes. For the under tens only. Sorry to be ageist here but I just want you to look cool.

3. Wife beaters. Not good on men of any age. Unless perhaps you're gay and very fit.

2. Jumpsuits. I experimented with a jumpsuit this year. I saw it, loved it and bought it. it's black with pink flowers and I still love it. I would still wear it were it not for the fact that it makes me look fat and dumpy. And I'm 5"8. I loved Lily Allen's Glasto jumpsuit (complete with Jacko tribute white glove) but she still looked fat and dumpy and she's a size 8! Fearne Cotton manages to look fat and dumpy in a jumpsuit - how how how??? My favourite jumpsuit on show in Mallorca was bright yellow, very stretchy, strapless and clearly very cheap as it was see-through and showed up all the cellulite on the wearer's thighs. Tip, if you want to show off every lump, bump and bodily imperfection, definitely go for a jumpsuit.

1. Obesity. Because in a Spanish heatwave where temperatures are going 40 degrees plus, there's a hell of a lot of it on show and my God it's actually quite shocking. Particularly in children. Particularly where they are sunburned as well. Never mind swine flu, visit any major holiday resort and you will uncover a much greater and more worrying health problem, and not all of it you can blame on an undeactive thyroid. I was (bar this one AMAZING looking woman who had at least two children and abs of steel, I wanted to run over and bow down), the fittest person there! Ridiculous, I mean, I'm hardly in the running to be a contender on Gladiators, one look at Hang Tough would have me running for the hills. I blame the 'all inclusive' culture. I mean, when is it ever ok to start on the pints at 10am, in 40 degree heat? And no, a portion of chips is not a 'snack', it's two days' fat allowance! Rant rant rant I know but I think it's important. Like the NHS isn't stretched enough as it is without Fatty McBurgerlover and his entire family taking up beds with obesity related illnesses and sunstroke. If unable to resist the snack bar people, then cover it up. Get a kaftan or a moo moo or something.

To end on a positive note, here are ten things I think look cool on holidays. Wear them with pride, along with your factor 30 of course:

10. Bright coloured dresses

9. White cotton shirts

8. Denim hotpants (though approach with care...mutton/thigh chafe being common hazards)

7. Havaianas

6. Board shorts

5. Bikinis with built in support and proper straps!

4. Big hats, big sunglasses

3. Maxidresses (though not in white unless you like the ethereal virgin look)

2. Chunky jewellery

1. Nautical stripes (with or without deck shoes, see above)

Boot camp

I have signed up to do a six week 'beach body boot camp'. The general reaction from around 100% of the people I've told has been "why"? I take this as a complement, clearly they think I don't need a beach body boot camp. How flattering. I'm not really sure why to be honest. I think I was on a bit of a marathon high when I signed up. The nature of the task ahead didn't really register until I got a scary email in my inbox from Mike, the instigator of this terrifying programme and actual real life Ken doll complete with tango tan and eyeliner. Some choice quotes from this email included:

"I want you to know right from the start, how much I truly want you to succeed at achieving the body you desire. Now that you know I really do care about you, it is time for me to reveal my more aggressive, “No Excuse Accepted” side. Just remember that I am unloading the can of harsh reality on you because it is for your own good."

"It’s the kick in the butt that you need right now to get you going. I promise that I will return back to my more fun loving and comforting self after the course is over. At that point I will light the fire under your butt that will lead you to unstoppable motivation and inspiration and you will thank me for opening your eyes to what has been holding you back all these years."

"There are no lame, pathetic, weak excuses about why you are overweight and unhealthy."

Aaaaaggggghhhhhhh!!!!!

Despite this I started on Monday morning at 7am. Just to fill you in, the boot camp runs for six weeks, 7am Monday to Friday, one hour a day and regular scrutiny of diet sheets and weigh ins (that's the bit for the fatties, I'm not doing the weigh ins or the diet. I'm still baking cakes, though I'm not sure Mike is fully aware of this fact yet).

All started fine, a 2 mile run on the flat - total doss, I was flying, like a fat bloke following an ice cream van. Worryingly, this was followed by a horrific British Military fitness style circuits sesh. Oh how I ached afterwards and am still aching now. My cockiness soon disappeared.

My confidence ebbed lower following two conversations. The first with Pat, a fellow boot camper. Pat is about 70, super fit with a proper Grandad tan - as my colleague remarked this morning, he's probably spent every day in the sun for the last 40 years covered in baby oil. His tan makes Mike look like the weird albino stalker from The Bodyguard. Honestly, I thought Newcastle was the tan capital of the world, not Bodmin. So anyway, Pat and I have been doing the running together. And he's actually a really lovely bloke. Post session today, the confidence sapping conversation went a little like this:

Pat: So, why are you doing this then, to tone up or lose weight?
Me: Erm...actually, I just really like exercising
Pat: How much do you weigh?
Me: Eleven stone. Always have done, hopefully always will
Pat: Yes, you've got a good pair of hips on you
Me: Well (a little stunned but suprisingly unoffended), I suppose I am a normal, pear shaped human being. I actually like to eat.
Pat: what do you eat? A lot of bread? chocolate?
Me: Not really? I eat a lot, but I eat well, lots of vegetables and stuff (blatantly lying now)
Pat: you'll probably find that you do lose a few pounds doing this. You're quite tall I suppose.
Me: Ok. erm...yes, 5"8.
Pat: bye then, see you tomorrow
Me: See ya Pat

The second such conversation came from Liz, Senior Administrator and general office Mum

Liz wanders into my office. She looks very concerned.

Liz: Are you ok?
Me: Yes, fine thanks
Liz: It's just you shuffled past the reception area earlier looking like a little old woman
Me: Oh. right. it's just, I'm doing this beach body boot camp at the moment and can't really walk.
Liz: Be careful you don't turn into one of those tiny little Russian athletes who ends up with arthritis by the age of 30 (I think she's referring to gymnasts?)
Me: Oh, I don't think there's any danger of that happening. I'm fine, really, thanks for asking.
Liz: glad you're ok. I honestly thought you were poorly.

So from one extreme to another. Pat thinks I have too much junk in my trunk, Liz is concerned that i'm wasting away and will be in a wheelchair in a couple of years.

Are they totally mad or actually is my exercise regime becoming a little extreme? For a moment, I thought about it. Then stopped worrying, because I live in Cornwall and we chill out down here. Anyway, I have four coastal trail half marathons to train for. No time for stressing.

And just in case you're wondering about that 'harsh can of reality', it's really not that bad. Mike is great - a fantastic trainer, very motivational and inspiring. Guess I am addicted...

quote of the day

Have just realised that my last post was rather self indulgent and didn't really really adhere to this blog's constitution (which would be 'for the purpose of reporting on life in Cameltoe through the eyes of an incoming city person). So here's my Cornwall moment of the day. BTW, it's totally true and un-made up.

Walking past a shop in Wadebridge, I was delighted to see the following sign in the window:

"Would the lady who was here on Tuesday afternoon requesting the large Golly please come in. I now have one in stock."

musing...

So here we are at the May bank holiday weekend. I'm sad to report there was no donkey at the Palm Sunday service last month, just a rather half arsed procession around the church yard singing 'Ride on Ride on in Majesty' about four times, completely out of time with Nick who had pumped up the organ to full pelt in the vain hope that we might actually hear it and stay in time. Needless to say, we did not.

Following my amazing success at the London Marathon last weekend (no. I didn't win, but it felt like I did), I have been thinking about achievement, ambition and generally living life to the full (or 'eating life' as a good friend of mine so appropriately puts it). Most of us have appraisals and personal development plans at work, but I guess we rarely actually have these for our lives in general. Which I guess means that most of us live year to year and then look back and think bugger. What have I been doing with my life! Not me - I'm all about eating life, but just to make sure I don't miss anything, I thought I would make a things to do before I'm 30 list.

By the way, a mate of mine did this on her blog and someone dug it up and read it out at her work's leaving party. Also, I've included some things I've already done, to make me feel better about the ones I haven't done. Treat it as a fun guessing game...

Here goes, in no particular order, things I, Caroline Joanna Danks would like to have done before I hit 30:

1. Run at least one London Marathon
2. Run a marathon in less than 4 hours 30 minutes
3. Know what it feels like to weigh 10 stone (as an adult - obviously, I have weighed less than this before in my life)
4. Stand up on a surfboard, unaided and actually look cool whilst doing it
5. Sing solo at a famous person's memorial service in the presence of other famous people
6. Have a solo rectial advertised in The Times
7. Have my photo taken for Playboy
8. Marry the love of my life
9. Go to Australia
10. Get some kind of health and fitness teaching qualification
11. Jump a fence at a fast and gallopy pace (on a horse that is)
12. Run a half marathon in 1 hour 50 minutes or less
13. Buy my own flat
14. Be a bridesmaid
15. Become a godmother
16. Become a mother
17. Write a novel (regardless of whether or not its actually any good)
18. Learn to play the piano
19. Have the word 'manager' in my job title
20. Open a savings account and put something in it!

Right. That's my list done. I'm off to write my novel...

Spring has sprung, the lambs are getting fat and there's a bloody big bird making strange parroty noises outside my kitchen window. Greetings from sunny Cameltoe on this fine Palm Sunday. The weekend (and past few weeks) in fact have been one fabulous Camelly blur. Super busy as usual. I honestly thought that by moving down here, I would have more time on my hands and I do I suppose, it's just that I like to fill that time with exciting things. Hence the busyness.

Some exciting things that have happened in my world recently:

1. I have only 1 long run to go before my marathon training is complete. Bring it on - 20 miles on Friday, here we go.

2. There are Pheasants everywhere, and they are so stupid. It's no wonder there are dead versions lying around everywhere. I felt slightly bad for one which was lying upturned in a hedge with its little legs akimbo - clearly it had bounced off someone's bonnet!

3. London people have been to visit! And how great it has been to catch up with members of the English Touring Opera cast and band and also with Cat and her family.

4. Speaking of English Touring Opera - how brilliant it is to go to the opera, sit 5 rows from the front and pay only £20 per ticket. Who needs Covent Garden?

5. My BlackBerry. Means I can work from the beach. Which means that life is sweet.

6. It is the Easter hols. So suddenly there are people everywhere. Polzeath was rammed with sloaney types yesterday wearing various nautical themed items of clothing and discussing how often they let out their big houses when they're not here. Mustn't slag off the Emmits though. I was one once (not one with a big house though).

Off to church in a mo. I'm hoping very much for a donkey (as we;re by the sea and all). If not a donkey then at least a horse.

Trendspotting

Having had some positive feedback following my recent post, I thought I would keep up the efforts and write something to fill the gap between now and Nick returning home and us eating dinner, which incidentally, I'm tres excited about as it's from M&S simply food and we don't often get M&S treats down here in the Toe.

It's been a most satisfying couple of days. Tank and I have clocked up the miles, journeying to Swindon via Tidworth where last night I enjoyed a rather lovely meal with the Charnocks. Shout out to the Charnocks for their (always) fabulous hospitality.

Today was spent in Swindon at head office. I have decided to rename my team the Fashion Police following a series of interesting discussions about work wear and the perils of getting it oh so wrong. I am, incidentally, always getting it oh so wrong and have been doing so from the beginning when I got a bollocking in the first three months of my first proper job for wearing a too short skirt. In fact, I got a similar rollocking in my last job so let's face it, it's only a matter of time before I make a similar fashion faux pas.

There are various tribes of style at my new workplace. At my usual place of work the theme is either smart (trousers, skirts, sometimes a colourful scarf, sensible leather boots cos you never know when you're going to have to trudge through a pile of mud) or 'country', a look which is not possible without a corporate branded gilet or sweatshirt or both depending on whether or not the radiator in your office is broken.

Head office is another matter however. Most people go for the similar smart casual look (which is slightly more Boden than at regional level), though there are also tribes of tweed, cool looking skinny girls with colourful tunic dresses, leggings and ballet pumps (God knows why they're not working for some super cool media type company in London) and the odd, well shall we say 'individual' who sticks out like Lady GaGa might at the Cameltoe and District WI meeting. Clearly, these people do not know who they are.

So, a useful and educating day. I will continue to not quite fit in in my uniform of converse, smart (ish) trousers and layered t shirts (clearly my days working for Gap have made their mark) and will live in the knowledge that, rather than trying to change my outfits to fit in, I will gladly accept that the next time I choose to wear a very short skirt (yes, there will be a time), I will get monumentally told off. I will of course always check in with the fashion police first. Occasionally, a short skirt is a useful and not to be ignored fundraising tool.

On a completely unrelated topic, a drove past a place called 'Hurden' the other night. Only a matter of time methinks before the Bodmin Moor graffitti genius kicks in...

Gimps anyone?

How time flies in Cameltoe. Last time I blogged it was snowing and leaving work at 5.30 involved a spooky pitch black drive over Bodmin Moor. Now the sun is shining, the daffs are out and I'm desperately trying to resist giving my credit card a good work out in the shops (all those gorgeous summer clothes, what girl can resist?). Instead, I'm trying to focus on giving myself a good work out oncce in a while, bearing in mind that the London Marathon is only 6 weeks away.

Enough of that though, you've all heard me bang on about the London Marathon before so I won't bore you with it now.

I think my favourite recent occurence here is that some comedy genius has cleverly changed the town sign so that it now reads 'Cameltoe'. An avid reader maybe? It may be the same person who changed 'Helland' into 'Bellend' a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps they are working their way through all Cornish place names trying to see what hilarious rude alternatives they can come up with. Any suggestions for the following welcome cos I can't think of any - Boscastle, Bodmin, Delabole, Padstow.

Of course there are some names which don't need alteration and which I believe to be pretty amusing anyway. Favourites include Tresuck, Pencuke (puke) and one which nearly made me crash the car the other day 'Ventongimps'. WTF???? who came up with that?