Daisy, Daisy


A recent trip to the local shopping centre brought to mind a post I intended to write, but never did. Perhaps this is the time.

Not long after Christmas, I accompanied Mrs H into La Senza. For those not in the know, La Senza is basically your one-stop shop for feminine nether-garments emblazoned with good-natured innuendoes. For me, it’s the sort of place where time grinds to a halt and I can experience hitherto undreamt-of levels of embarrassment.

As you wander around a shop like this, you will be surrounded by posters from which various semi-nude females will tower, Godzilla-like, over you. As a man accompanied by your better half, you must attempt to ignore these.

It was in this setting that something unusual caught my eye – nipple daisies. Thinking they were something mildly subversive to plant in one’s garden, I had a little look. It turned out that they were something for our female friends to wear under ‘sheer-fitting’ garments in order that they are not, um, apparent to the outside world on cold days.

It was then I heard a voice at my elbow: ‘can I help you, sir?’

It was a very helpful (or perhaps slightly uneasy) shop girl, who had sidled up to my side undetected. I tried to formulate a nonchalant response. This is quite difficult when you are in the middle of La Senza with a packet of nipple daisies in your hand.

‘Um. I’m OK, thanks. Just waiting for…’ and I indicated to the empty space on my left, that had until recently been occupied by Mrs H. It was then I noticed her waiting on a bench outside the shop. Evidently, some time had passed.

I hastily returned said daisies to their spot, and beat a hasty exit. I probably won’t go in there again. They’ve probably got my CCTV image on posters under the counter.

Explore posts in the same categories: Gardening, Goings on

7 Comments on “Daisy, Daisy”

  1. J Says:

    What’s wrong with gaffa tape? Worked for Carrie Fisher when she played Princess Leia in the Star Wars moovies…

    How times have changed.

  2. Doug Says:

    That’s all very well, but I shudder to imagine the process of removing it at the end of a day’s shooting. Ease it off bit by bit, or whip it off all at once? It’s the perennial question.

  3. Quinnboy Says:

    Doug, this is quality. I’m glad that out of all the photos you could have chosen to accompany this post, you chose the one you did.

  4. Another Mrs H Says:

    Oh my word! You poor thing!
    My Mr H would have been GUTTED!

    They should have a big room with TV, newspapers and a huge ball pit for all embarrasable husbands in every shopping centre to avoid episodes like that.

  5. Doug Says:

    That would certainly help.

    Another scenario I dread is when Mrs H wants to try something on, but wants to garner my opinion of how it looks. This involves me hovering around the changing area.

    On more than one occasion, it has been assumed that I am an unaccompanied man hoping to sneak a peek of an unsuspecting female mid-change, and I have been ushered away by an anxious assistant with a nervous laugh.

    I’m all for single-sex shopping expeditions, really. It simplifies things no end.

  6. Ross Says:

    On single-sex shopping expeditions don’t you run the risk of being moved on from outside changing rooms for similar reasons?

  7. Doug Says:

    No. Gentlemen do not try anything on. Perhaps you are the exception?

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