Antipo Discovers Her Inner Prude

The enjoyment I get from wearing low-cut t-shirts and dresses has now been sullied by some unwanted attention.

The compliments on my cleavage came from a certain person of authority whom I see nearly every day, but neither in a domestic, nor a social setting, if you get my drift.

Sadly, I don’t fancy this person at all, at all! Am I a hypocrite then, to feel annoyed that he expressed his admiration? He seemed embarrassed the minute he blurted out his compliments, and I immediately felt uncomfortable and wished he had said nothing. I’m now keeping my distance from him as much as possible.

I suppose it’s the situation rather than the person that is the problem. Much as I love flashing my bosoms on the internet, with potential admirers at a safe distance (!), having the up close and personal admiration simply made me feel icky.

My own personal agony aunt, The Lovely Ms. Mac, advised me to keep dressing the way I like to dress, while maintaining a frosty demeanour, in order to torture this person. But I'm afraid that "Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen" may prove too true...


Sigh. So I’m heading to the dusty boxes in the attic to dig out my Victorian, high-necked ruffly blouses and ghastly, shapeless pinafore dresses dating back to 1983. Pix coming soon - I could do with a good laugh!