I have a habit about being wrong about things like this. I’ll silently observe some fad or fashion from high up in my lofty princess-perfectness then before I know what’s happened, I’m in Top-Shop, credit card in hand, paying for at least one of the mad ‘things’ I was so previously down-on-its-ass! I think I’m right about this one though. I can’t believe in a million years, even if it was knitted out of gold and presented to me by a naked George Clooney that I’d ever, ever want to own or wear a fu**ing PONCHO!
Imagine know a very old lady. She has one of those little round side tables that holds all her porcelain frogs and photos of grandchildren at various stages of ugliness. In 1981, whilst shedding a tear over the Royal Wedding and thinking it was still 1951, this old lady crochets a yucky green cloth for aforementioned table. Forward now to 2004 – you steal this piece of crochet-work, cut a hole in the middle, stick your head through it and WEAR it! Would you?? Could you?? Not me, no sirree. I’ll happily steal from an old lady but I wont wear a poncho I’ll leave that to EVERYONE ELSE! World, what’s going on!!
Ponchos previously touched my life back in the seventies when I was about FIVE… I seem to remember the slightly more backward children who couldn’t manage buttons, toggles or zips wearing them. I didn’t want to wear one back then either!
Jesus – I know now I’ve written this I’ll end up getting one – I just know it – that’s how my life IS! Probably a fluorescent one you can see from space, just for good measure!
PS – apologies of course to any of you who do actually HAVE a poncho of your very own – I’m sure yours looks lovely and not in any way like a grannies crocheted tablecloth.