The First Miracle of Chanukkah

Last night was the Chanukkah party at the Kabbalah centre and I decided that seeing as I spent most of my time there wearing jeans (albeit Seven jeans, but jeans all the same) that I would don my glad rags for a change. Make the effort. It's a party.

What makes me laugh about dressing up for parties is that I always prepare for the evening by applying lots of 'going out' make-up and styling my hair, taking extra time to look good. Then at some point during the evening, the Delusion Fairy visits and helps me to maintain the thought that I look as good towards the end of the evening I did at the start.

I left the house in a rush, running late for the train, and it was raining. Thinking that I did not have enough time to turn back and grab my umbrella, I walked as briskly as I could, feeling the curl slowly return to my straightened hair, and rather alarmingly feeling my hold ups slip a little down my thighs.

I arrived at the centre and straightened myself out. My bright red lipstick had smudged at the corners slightly, giving me an undesired clown effect, but my eyes still looked okay.

Every person I met saw the dress and said "Wow - I like this - you look great!" and little by little I started to slowly feel ever so slightly fantastic. "It's the first miracle of Chanukkah" I said "Me, in a dress"

After the candle-lighting, lecture and meditation, there was a fabulous buffet upstairs and disco downstairs. I queued for food, remembered to re-apply my lipstick afterwards (which was extra effort seeing as I usually give up with lipstick after the first application), and then got up to dance.

I was still feeling fabulous - life and soul of the party. The Lady in Black and Red. I caught the train home tired, but in high spirits.

Now, I'm not sure at which point in the evening the Delusion Fairy waved her wand, but I was halfway home when one of my Hold Ups very suddenly became a Let Down. All of a sudden I had a knee covered in rather tired, rubbery lace. Without further ado, I grabbed the top of it and yanked it back up to the top of my leg, exposing goodness knows what to the young men walking behind me. I took two steps and it fell straight back down again. Marvellous. I decided to hitch, and then hold, (are they called Hold Ups because at the end of the evening you have to hold them up??). I walked home like Jake the Peg, feeling rather inelegant, but not being able to think of a better option.

When I reached the steep steps on the hill, I came face to face with a fox. She eyed me warily, as foxes do, and I stood a while to watch her, whilst she weighed up how fast I would be able to run with my Hold Ups round my ankles. Deciding that by the way I was clutching my leg, I was probably injured, she slowly moved to the side and let me pass. It was a nice moment.

When I got home I immediately got changed and took a look at my face in the mirror. Oh dear. All of the eye make-up that started on top of my eye had gravitated south and the lipstick had spread in to a multitude of fine lines created by too much laughing. A limping clown panda had replaced the vision of beauty who sailed out of the house 5 hours earlier.

Curse you, Delusion Fairy.

Imagine the Crimewatch reconstruction for that journey home.