I seem to have spent most of my life boringly ‘above average’. School grades, height, bumps and bruises, weight, and more…
And now, I suppose I am reaching ‘above average’ in terms of age. I have to come to terms with the undeniable fact that Middle Age is looming on the horizon like some kind of monolith that we all try to ignore but which casts a shadow over everything. And if I should dare to forget, my son is ready and willing to remind me.
Over the years, I have realised that there are a few simple ground rules that can help you make it through (and even enjoy) an ‘above average’ life without making much more than an average arse of yourself. And being a generous soul, I’ve decided to share them:
* Develop a sense of humour that’s WAY above average. You’re gonna need it.
(It’s better to beat others to taking the piss by choosing your own self-deprecating insults - you may even make it through adolescence)
* Don’t expect men to open doors or carry bags for you. You will have a very long wait.
* Get used to the fact that shorties will see anyone above average in height as their own personal fetch & carry slaves.
(On the plus side, you get a great view of their neglected roots or bald patches - good material for your sense of humour)
* Most men will never consider you ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’ as long as you are their equal (or more) in height, weight and IQ. That’s their problem, not yours.
* If you’re chunky around the hips and thighs, don’t EVEN think about wearing leggings – even with a long top. You will simply look like a fatty in denial.
* You will never be able to hide in the corner or disappear in a crowd, so enjoy standing out for reasons you decide - a drop-dead red lipstick, a brilliant long tailcoat (shorties can’t carry them off), an infectious laugh or sparkling eyes.
* Unless you’re aiming for the “frumpy, dumpy” look, don’t fall into the neutral and pastels trap. You won’t blend into the background - you’ll look like a lost pink elephant.
* Resist the urge to beat your petite girlfriends to a pulp every time they start moaning about their weight or agonising about cellulite (while chomping on a chocolate éclair). They probably envy your height, your cleavage, your ready wit – or perhaps the fact that you shove your way through a crowd without risking serious injury.
* Stop obsessing about numbers. Sizes, calories, kilos, et al don’t matter so long as you’re healthy and happy (OK, you can check your cholesterol, BP and bank account now and then).
* Avoid frills, flounces, bows and large florals like the plague – unless you want to look like Auntie Florrie’s three piece suite (complete with antimacassars).
* Stop reading women’s magazines – stories of ladies whose total weight is less than your left thigh can only end in tears.
* Enjoy your life – who wants to be ‘average’ after all?