WAGS & DAGS

Recently I was dining at one of Cardiff's contemporary restaurants in the Bay, called Mimosa. Great service and even better food.



It was described in a well known national paper as "the restaurant to watch in Wales". I agree - just don't watch the other diners too often due to their fashion faux pas's.



I was there on Good Friday with my friend Laura. Laura and I had done the essential texting each other of the "What are you wearing?" and we both had decided on something fabulous and suitable for Mimosa.



I was in limited edition Gold Doc Marten boots, wet look leggings, and a vintage ladies tuxedo, Dolce & Gabbana bag and lashings of Chanel No 5 with cosmetics courtesy of MAC and YSL.



Laura had great accessories, sparkly gorgeous top, incredible skinny jeans and lovely shoes.



The restaurant was full with people having a wonderful time, the ambience was right and the food we had was excellent.

Then the evening was almost ruined . I was looking around to see who was in the restaurant, presuming as they were eating in Mimosa they would have impeccable taste.

Could I have been more wrong ? No !

I spotted a couple. The man had a touch of Richard Gere about him. Salt and pepper grey hair, dressed smart casual, quite Ralph Lauren, classic and preppy.

I know, I know, his wife must be a dreamboat.

Trust me Cardiff's answer to Richard Gere did not have Cardiff's answer to "Pretty Woman" with him.

It was a good job we were between courses, otherwise I think I would have choked on my food.

Firstly, I spotted fashion faux pas number 1 - a scrunchie in the hair. Then, fashion faux pas number 2 - a FLEECE!

A FLEECE AT DINNER ! Had the woman lost her mind ?????

I would not wear a fleece to walk the dog.

My male divorced friend told me in no uncertain terms that if his wife had come downstairs dressed in a fleece to go to dinner, he would have ordered in.

Chris Bonington, Antartic Explorers, Outdoor Pursuits Instructors - I understand, believe me I do - they have their uses and appropriate locations to be worn in but fleeces are not restaurant suited unless on top of an Alpine mountain.

NOT in Mimosa at the dinner table.

A few days later, I was chatting to a friend who I told about the fleece moment at Mimosa. I was horrified and understandably quite angry that she had the gall to make such an understated effort, after the stress of what Laura and I went through in the decision making process on what we would wear in order that we looked as fabulous as possible.

My friend told me that if I was in a bad mood, as she did not believe that all my angst was directed at fleece woman, then I had to take it out on the right person.

I do occasionally listen to friend's advice, the next day, I texted the useless guy I was dating and told him that

"Men are supposed to take the lead in dating, frankly at present you seem incapable of taking my dog's lead and taking her out"

Then I went on to say that dating him was like pulling teeth i.e. NOT a lot of fun.

Hence, I took fashion angst out on Mr Dance DJ, who looked like he could do with a few nights dining at Mimosa as he was so thin. To be honest it was a relief that I got shot if him, I never liked his teeth anyway.

Ladies, take note, NEVER date a man with thinner thighs than yourselves, it will end in tears.

Anyway, some weeks later, I was working out at the gym with my fabulous in her 50's friend, who does not look in body or face anywhere near her age , she is in amazing nick and has exquisite taste.

She had gone to neighbours that weekend for a barbecue and some other neighbours had gone there too.

She went on to tell me that the other neighbours they had not met before, were quite something. The woman, apparently, not a scrap of make-up on the face, hair that had not seen a brush, product, hairdresser or colour since Adam was boy. From the description it sounded like one of those women that the FBI rescue from evil polygamous religious cults in America when they come out with middle partings and streaks of grey in the most boring hair colour known to man , looking completely washed out .

Fabulous friend, was asked how her very succesful hubby had come to Cardiff as he was English. Fab friend, told Mrs No Make-up, that he had gone to University there and played Rugby for Cardiff and also cricket for Glamorgan.

FF joked that as it was quite some time ago, she was the original WAG.

Do you know what non make-up lady retorted

"Well you've got enough bling for it! "

Luckily fab friend found the funny side.

I guess Bling to this particular lady would have been holding the Baked potato in foil on her lap at the BBQ.

My guess is her daughter eats at Mimosa dressed in unsuitable clothes.

I know what I would rather be described as it always has to be WAG in lieu of DAG.

Guess what ? BBQ guest's choice of clothes amongst others for that evening .......

Yes, she too had a fleece !

Leave the fleece on the sheep ladies, or to the mountain dwellers.

I rest my case.

WAGS and DAGS - never the twain shall meet.