Iseldom speak of the day when I pranced around in a field in nothing more than a badly fitting nightie, whilst chanting repetitively for 6 hours and 43 minutes. Friends and family considered my behaviour to be environmental folly with a strong whiff of self-indulgent twaddle, and also extremely irritating, but they didn’t have my vision, or know a film producer with 45 acres of hemp.
For the first time ever my friends and family were correct, my behaviour was completely out of character, and my vision a little bit blurred. To start with I would never wear a nightie because fleece lined pyjamas are my nightwear of choice; and I would never trample wild flowers underfoot. Judging by my embarrassed demeanour and glazed expression I can only imagine that I was coerced to drone on endlessly about daisies in such a tedious fashion, for which I can only apologise. Perhaps I had entered some kind of bizarre beauty pageant to become Little Ms Ditzy 1978. Who knows? Let us never speak of this incident again.
I mean, it might look divine to prance through long grass bare foot with a daisy chain wrapped around your head, but trust me, it isn’t, well not unless you’re some kind of wide eyed bovine. The ground in a field is uneven, it is lumpen, often soggy, and strewn with cowpats. And please be aware that bare legs and a flimsy white garment will offer no protection from tics, snakes, and creepy-crawlies such as red ants, wasps, horse-flies, and hornets. I would recommend sturdy boots and insect repellent for anyone intent on trampling through the undergrowth. Never wear white as it attracts storm flies – well most flies to be honest – and also mud. Finally, never sit in a tree in your nightie as this situation is ripe for an unfortunate ending.
As I said, Let us never speak of this incident again.
This has been some kind of public information broadcast about the perils of wearing unsuitable clothing in the British countryside, brought to you by someone who has learnt the hard way.
Thank you, and have a well attired Bank Holiday Weekend.
Wonky Words 
I think I might know people who entered the Little Ms Ditzy contest 1978.
Thanks for the advice, Ms Scarlet. I shall think twice about wafting through a field in a white nightie henceforth, unless we ever decide to recreate the opening scenes from Little House on the Prairie, of course – but then there’s the endless battles over whose turn it is to play Laura Ingalls to contend with, so it’s probably not worth the bother. Jx
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Jon – They are at least properly attired in the opening scenes of LHotP! They are wearing shoes. And probably bloomers, and stockings that not even a horse fly could penetrate. I never minded being Mary, meaning I could sit quietly in a corner being brave and pretty.
Sx
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Thank you for learning the hard way so I don’t have to. I have often been tempted by those Victorian nighties you sometimes see in shops like https://www.armstrongsvintage.co.uk/ and the idea of frolicking in meadows. I’ll stick to wellies and tweeds. X
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Eryl – I know! The idea of frolicking in a meadow whilst wearing a flimsy garment is romantic and appealing, the reality is somewhat different – insect bites, and heat rash!
Wellies and wax jackets here!
Sx
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Quite how you made it through that field alive dressed like that is a miracle, Ms Scarlet!
Now, what kind of perfume would Welly’s and wax jackets inspire? Ronseal wood stain? Sheep dip?? Swarfega?!?
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*Glares at Mr Devine* I do not smell of sheep dip, or wood stain, or Swarfega!!!
Good heavens. Obviously I smell of insect repellent, which at this time of year is a heady mix of Citronella, Peppermint, Geranium, or Lavender essential oils. The Peppermint is for spiders and wasps – I mix it with white vinegar and use it as a cleaner around the house to detour the spiders, as they get a bit frisky this time of year. I hope this reply has been educational, if nothing else!!
Sx
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Those storm flies or thunder flies as I know them are the worse, they get inside your knickers and have a good root around, very embarrassing when you’re stood at the deli counter in Waitrose and all you want to do is hitch up your Victorian casuals and have a good scrat.
Re. Little House on the Prairie, Nellie and Mrs Oleson were my favourites, I couldn’t take to Mary I don’t think she’d be the type to play knock off ginger or ever got fingered behind the school house toilets.
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Mitzi – Those damn storm flies get everywhere – they get under the glass in picture frames and give people extra facial hair.
Nellie Olesen!! I liked Mary – she was always the voice of reason. Apologies, I am in ultra sensible mode. Don’t worry, it won’t last.
Sx
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Sterling advice Ms S, and timely too. The meadows are lousy with stoats, vipers and um … lice at this time of year. Also, the weather is a bit skittish. The other day I was told the tragic tale of a young lady watercolourist who set forth with her aquarelles and easel on a summer’s day, only to be caught in a light shower. Whilst contemplating wet-in-wet and the probability of wasting away from Victorian Heroine Disease she nibbled pensively on an item of friable chocolate confectionery, and was vaporised by a thunderbolt. All they found were her sandals and an aluminium folding stool. Shocking, innit?
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Mr Batarde – I know of this tragic tale! I will have to dust down my old Flake advert post and republish, although my take was less poignant – I think I coupled it with a Corsodyl advert and went a bit dental. It made sense at the time, as the Corsodyl woman was also wandering around aimlessly in a field, but with rotten teeth and gum disease. I tell you, meadows and fields are a danger to young women everywhere.
Sx
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It’s March flies here that we have to watch out for. Nasty, bitey buggers. Harmless, apparently, but still nasty, bitey buggers.
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Dinah – Are the March flies like Horse flies *shudders*. I have had some success with Avon Skin So Soft – it seems to detour the biters. The house flies can also get a bit pesky as they can land on you and then spit acid – it feels like a pin prick, and is unpleasant. Anyhow, try a citronella and geranium mix in a diffuser and this might keep the March flies down.
Sx
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When Billy Connolly was here he said quite a lot about them “Who the f… called them March Flies? It’s f…… Novemeber! Somebody should do a F…… calendar-drop!”
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Indeed! Why are they called March flies?! I will Google.
Sx
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I was watching the video to Post Malone’s track “I like You” and Doja Cat is prancing around a field naked. All I could think was I bet those flowers must be itchy and what if she gets bitten by something nasty. I’m just pleased Post Malone made the decision to keep his clothes on. https://youtu.be/7aekxC_monc
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Well this is it, Joey, we are at that age where we understand that behind every pretty video there is an army of people supplying first aid and antihistamines! We must be hard work to sell stuff to!
Sx
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Wait, was that you in the video? You risked your roses and cream complexion as well as your life for that?
Because truly, it doesn’t make me want to buy the product.
I hereby pronounce you Dame Scarlet, for services to insects
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Why thank you, Kylie!!!
Somehow I don’t think this advert is aimed at us!!! Though we still have to watch the bloody thing if we are watching commercial TV.
Sx
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Glad to say I’ve never sat in a tree in my nightie and therefore have never met an unfortunate ending. Also I haven’t trampled through the undergrowth recently – not in a nightie, a chiffon minidress or any other flimsy and unsuitable garment.
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Nick – I feel strangely disappointed by your revelation, do you not even make mischief in a sarong?
Sx
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Well, there was the horrifying tea trolley disaster in 1972, which left 6 dead and 43 injured. I’m still being blamed for the catastrophic brake failure.
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Nick – Now you’re talking my sort of language!! You could have prevented this mishap with a well placed drop of peppermint and a flannel.
Sx
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If I repeat “self-indulgent twaddle” through out the day will those that hear me think I’m British? I suspect they will just mark me as loony. But a loonie is a Canadian dollar so I would be worth something.
Thanks for providing a phrase I could work on.
Oh, I do agree with your more practical approach to meadow dancing. You don’t your emotional fantasy give you an unpleasant rash.
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Correction – (thinking running much faster than typing)
You don’t want your emotional fantasy to give you an unpleasant rash.
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I enjoy walks in the countryside of up to fifteen minutes, which terminate in a pub.
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This reminds me of a nightgown my dad and stepmom got me when I was 14, I think. It was flannel with blue flowers and ruffled at the bottom and full-length sleeves. It was big enough for a cow to wear. In fact, myself and three friends were able to fit in it. What were they thinking? As a maturing young woman, I was developing breasts, not flippin’ udders!!!
Dancing in a field, especially barefoot is best left to the dream world and not reality.
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