Tuesday, 3 February 2009

The return of the scary suit jacket

I delved deep into the darkest depths of my wardrobe. I rummaged around, feeling fabrics, shifting shoes and banishing bags. Finally, I found it. It had been a while, but it was back. My scary suit jacket.
I named it the scary suit jacket not because it's possessed by a poltergeist but because once I was too scared to try it on. I knew I'd added a few extra pounds to my figure and I was scared to try it on in case it no longer fitted me. Alas I was too broke to buy another one for the forthcoming important conference in Barcelona. (It did fit me in the end, hurray!)
It's a well travelled jacket. It has travelled to Cannes, Barcelona and Singapore. It's knocked up a few air miles and witnessed a few sights. It's partied on a yacht in Cannes, listened to my cheering at a football match in Barcelona, and it's visited a safari park in Singapore. It's not led a bad life. And miraculously it still fits me, albeit a little tight.
I wore it to London the other day for my recruitment agency appointments. I wanted to inject the impression that I was smart and business like, by wearing my scary suit jacket.
I met my first recruitment contact in a coffee shop and we discussed my CV, the recession (apparently unemployment figures in the UK are the worst for 30 years, which is not very encouraging), and blogging and photography. Incidentally he is a blogger and a photographer, so as well as giving him the task of helping me find a job we had lots of common interests to discuss. We were in the coffee shop for a long while.
The next agency I liaised with actually had a position for me. So after roaming around taking photographs of London, I wrote my covering letter and applied for the vacancy. I even wrote in my letter that I would be an asset to their company. I think the scary suit jacket affected my confidence levels! Hmmm. Maybe it's not such a scary jacket after all. And I liked the sound of the job and the company. I googled them and they are a successful engineering publishing company.
Okay, okay, maybe it's just a normal 97% polyester and 3% spandex, black jacket. A black jacket which has been sitting in the back of my wardrobe for far too long.
But now it's back. And there is absolutely no reason for me to be scared of it any longer.
Unless of course, it decides to fly around my bedroom of its own accord, chanting evil curses in the process. Now that would be scary....

Scenes from Covent Garden












10 comments:

Amel's Realm said...

LOVE the pics, esp. the first one!!! And that scary suit jacket sounds good to me since it made you feel good. :-D

GOOD LUCK in getting a job! :-D

Eryl Shields said...

Good luck with the job, of course you'd be an asset to the company suit jacket or no suit jacket.

The World According To Me said...

Glad you like them Amel. Now I no longer work in London everyday I am appreciating the sights!

Thanks for the good luck wishes.

Hope all is cool with your new home.

The World According To Me said...

Cheers Eryl. Nice to hear someone has faith in me!

Blur Ting said...

I love Covent Garden and wished I had time to visit the last time I was in London.

Your jacket is a lucky one becos it brought you everywhere. It'll bring you alot of luck this time round.

jyankee said...

Wow good luck... hope things work out... I know those scary suit jackets... they pass off this weird aura that say "hire me or ELSE"!

The World According To Me said...

Hello Blur

It's a shame you didn't have time to visit Covent Garden on your last London travels. It's one of my favourite places in London. I love the unusal shops and market stalls. And there was a woman walking a ladder and throwing knives! I didn't manage to take any decent pictures of her though.

I like that - my lucky jacket.

The World According To Me said...

Hello Jyankee

Yep, hire me or else the scary jacket will be after you!!

He, he!

The Real Mother Hen said...

All the best to you.

I'm confident that you will find something soon.

The World According To Me said...

Thanks The Real Mother Hen.