The walk of SHAME

By Sarah Morris on May 10, 10 03:51 PM in Style

Most of us have or will do it at least once in our lifetimes. It's up there with some of the most humiliating, eyes fixed on the ground, head hanging moments. And many of us, despite not finding it particularly comfortable, will go on to do it again, looking back on that last moment as "amusing".

Ladies and gentlemen, I am (not so) proud to introduce to you all, the 'walk of shame'.

Definition: That moment, however long or short, after the night before when after realising you've woken up in a bed/house/flat/sofa/floor/dustbin (please delete as appropriate, and go on, be honest - at least one of you out there has a tendency for garbage ridden beds of artificial wastage... no?) that is not your own, you have to walk home, in broad daylight for all and sundry to witness.... And in the same outfit you wore out last night, having slept in at least half of it, with either no, or half smudged make-up, and hair that no longer resembles that 'just-got-out-of-bed' look because it now, actually, is genuine.

What was that? You don't know what I'm talking about? Sorry, darling, I think you're lying (unless you are under 18 years of age in which case I should hope not - it is not big, nor clever, and you might catch something. Maybe.).

So this happened to me yesterday. But, just to clear this up, I did not wake up in a dustbin, on the floor or in someone else's bed. I awoke on my friend's very clean and stylish sofa in her very clean and stylish lounge with a very lovely view across Birmingham. And I only slept in a third of my outfit.
I did however have no make up on and my hair was genuinely stuck in that 'just-got-out-of-bed' look. Who needs sea-spray!

So far, not so bad.

My over knee socks I figured would look slightly too 'of the night' for a daytime look though, so I pushed them down into ankle socks, pulled on my platforms, pulled my skirt down to a decent daytime length and zipped up my jacket. Not bad I thought. Until I had to share a lift with someone who had clearly had a good night's sleep, showered and had changed since the night before.

Epic. Fail.

Suddenly I resembled something that can only be described as an upmarket tramp.
" But it all looked so good last night!"
Yes, "looked". It's past tense. I DID look good. Now, I just looked dishevelled, tired and was desperately trying to hide it... I think the faint yellow curry stain from the dirty chips and curry sauce I'd eaten before going to bed had given it away. Nice.

To make matters worse, it wasn't raining or dull outside in the slightest. It was in fact a gloriously sunny day! And here comes fail no.2 - no massive celebrity-style shades to hide the un-made-up mascara-less tired eyes, struggling to squint in the glare of the midday sun. Oh-no. There I was, nakedly obvious in my attempts to cover up the fact I'd had a brilliant night out with the girls the night before, had made it as far as my friend's before crashing out, and got up after 10am with only the same outfit and sky-scraper heels to go home in. How horrendous.

You know, I think I've just discovered why the walk of shame isn't so bad after all... if what I described is the extent to which you end up!

If in future you do ever plan on crashing out somewhere other than your own home, do the decent thing for yourself and your dignity - make like alleged seasoned party girl Sarah Harding:

Sarah Harding.jpg

Remember:
- your celeb-style oversized shades
- an emergency pair of pants
- a mini toothbrush
- a hair band to pull your hairback (and give you a mini face-lift!)
- a flat pair of shoes - those heels ain't so clever in the cold light of day!

No one will ever know the difference - honest!

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