I admit that when I arrived and she came to the door with sanitiser in one hand and a temperature gun in the other, I did burst out laughing and proclaim ‘Fuck me Helen! You look like a stormtrooper!”.
The annoying thing is that the perfection I was seeking, that so many of us seek every day, it didn’t exist. There is no ‘perfect’. Everyone is out there every day working their arses off to achieve this unattainable, non-existent concept. Every single one of us has our own aspirations, our own ideas of what is ‘perfect’. Most of the time we’re not even happy.
Let’s face it, if we did have a go at a trim ourselves, who can honestly say they got tooled up? More likely, it was a quick grab of anything we could lay our hands on that would restore vision – kitchen scissors, nail scissors or even the ones we only use Christmas and birthdays for cutting wrapping paper.
We aren’t all queuing up to be the next contestants on Sewing Bee (although the thought of spending time with Patrick Grant is certainly appealing), even if we do know our bobbins from our presser foot.