Another Woman to Wonder At.

You might recall that I made mention recently of two stand-out women I encountered recently. First there was the bag lady, and then there was the young woman who I referred to as a ‘pearl among pebbles.’ They were both in Uttoxeter. Today I saw another, in Ashbourne this time.

The weather in Ashbourne was unpleasant this morning. It was dull and cold with a biting, blustery wind and spitting showers of rain. People everywhere were frowning as they trudged head-first into the cold, wet blast, and the sartorial order of the day was back to winter coats and woolly hats. Not so the woman I saw come into the charity shop where I was perusing the merchandise.

She could easily have been a glamour model just moving beyond her prime – aged around 40 or a little over, tall, slim but curvaceous in all the right places, sporting long, immaculately groomed chestnut hair, and carrying herself with the practiced deportment of someone who knows how to balance a book on her head come hell or high water.

Get the picture? No, because you haven’t got the full picture yet. I haven’t said how she was dressed on this dull, cold, wet, windy day in our grim little market town. She was wearing skin-tight (so tight they might have been painted on) white jeans cut off at the knee to reveal bare calves and shins. Above the jeans there was nothing but a skimpy cotton halter top in red with a bit of frilly stuff around it. Bare midriff, bare back, flawless skin exposed to the elements as though elements didn’t exist. No coat, no hat, no apparent concern.

How do they do it? It reminded me of a man I saw many years ago walking across a road on a cold, ice-laden morning in January. It was early enough to be still dark, and he was wearing shorts and a T shirt.

Do they come from a different world somewhere? Are they proof of aliens being among us or the existence of parallel universes? I would love to know. I should have asked her, shouldn’t I?

‘Excuse me madam, please don’t take this amiss, but since you’re dressed that way I’m curious to know whether you come from another planet or a parallel universe. I imply no criticism whatsoever, merely a sense of wonder.’

I think I would have been safe enough. There was no possibility of her having an advanced weapon hidden about her person with which to fry me and send me to my maker like a piece of battered cod. (Unless it was small enough to fit in her ear, of course. Aliens can be a bit sneaky like that.)

Oddly enough, the charity shop had the complete set of Star Trek movies for sale. I chose not to buy them even before I spotted a disguised Romulan female perusing the cheap dress jewellery. Maybe there’s a connection.