I should have been a boy

Me on the train the other day, late for an evening do where the dress code was described as "glamorous": wearing a creased jumper and skankoid, holey trainers; £10 emergency-purchase kitten heeled flip flops stored in my £3 handbag ready for quick change on arrival;decidedly kinky hair (not in a good way); partially made up; moisturising my legs with Carmax: For Chapped Lips.

And to think I used to tut at the vulgar women doing their makeup on the trains when I moved to London. Now I might as well just turn up in my towel and get dressed in transit.