Another weird and awkward dilemma from the depths of the northern line…
So this morning, I’m on my way to meet a friend when a girl gets onto my tube. She’s very pretty and looking very dressed up for this time on a Sunday morning. Black blazer, high heels and a pretty mint green party dress. The dress has one of those nice floaty skirts that sits just above the knee, a cinched waist and – err – what appears to be a tag with all the washing instructions on it…
The dress is inside out.
Oh poor girl! It’s now I realise I can see the inside seam sticking out and in places a bit frayed running up the side of her dress.
I can also now reveal as she’s sat next to me that the dress is 50% polyester and 50% nylon. And can be washed at 40°. With similar colours.
Then came the dilemma. Should I warn her before she reaches her destination? How humiliating to get to a party, or the races or wherever she is going to have her grand entrance dashed by the fact her dress is inside out!
But this isn’t your normal situation like this. This isn’t one of those ‘your label is sticking out’ or the classic ‘your skirt is tucked into your knickers’ moments. She can’t just whip the dress off on the tube and turn it round. Will it embarrass her to tell her in front of a tube carriage of people?
Maybe it’s easier to just not tell her.
But what would I want? I’d want to know!
What if there’s a bloke waiting to meet her?
A first date perhaps?
OR what if she’s on her way to a really special lunch and her boyfriend of two years is planning to propose? I can’t have her big moment happen whilst she’s got her dress inside out! Ruined because I was too selfish to tell her.
I need to take one for the team. Neigh – this is for the sisterhood!
I must tell her. I would want someone to tell me.
But I’ll do it subtlety. So I scribbled on the back of a tesco receipt I found in my pocket:
“I think your dress is inside out. Just so you know :)”
I regretted the smiley face instantly as instead of making the note light hearted it might just look like I’m mocking her but scribbling out the smiley face might look a bit mean.
I take a deep breath and pass it over. She looks a bit freaked out that a strange girl is handing her notes – like we were in a double history lesson – on the tube.
She reads the note. She looks at me and announces really loudly
“Oh I know honey. I went back to some guy’s house last night and spilt red wine down me. See?”
I now can see a faint red tinge clashing on the mint green.
“…it was less visible inside out.”
“Oh. I see… Resourceful.” was all I could say back.