MUMMY MAKEOVER (what happens when you let your children dress you)

The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to really think them through: ‘How would you guys like to give me a Mummy makeover?’

Big Sis’s eyes lit up. ‘So we could pick whatever clothes we want, and you’d HAVE to wear it?’ ‘Yep! I replied. ‘And we get to do your hair too..?’ ‘Erm… I suppose so…’ ‘And your make up?!’ ‘Well… that wasn’t… I didn’t… oh, OK then…’

When they started dancing in a circle, laughing maniacally, I began to wonder if I’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Big Sis rushed straight my wardrobe and start rifling through the hangers, pausing every so often with an ‘Ooooooh!‘ I resisted the urge to veto her, as she began to pull the sparkliest, most garish pieces from the dark crevices of my closet.

‘I thought I’d chucked that out years ago,’ I muttered, feeling increasingly nervous.

Meanwhile, Lil Sis had ripped open my makeup drawer, and was rummaging through it. ‘This is shiny, I want this one! No, I want THIS one! NO, I WANT BOTH OF THEM!!’

Dear God, what have I done?!

‘Here you go, Mummy,’ Big Sis dropped a pile of clothes at my feet.

An interesting collaboration of textures and styles: a tulip skirt, a sequinned blazer and a glittery tank top, teamed with beaded summer sandals, a glut of necklaces and a turquoise wrap bracelet.

It has a certain butch 80’s power-dresser charm, oui? Next up was Lil Sis…

She’d stayed in the sparkly vein, coupling a sequinned jacket with a geometric print shift dress I thought I’d chucked years earlier. The shoes are actually favourites of mine – although I’d have opted for a plain dress to go with them – and I do love the matinee jacket too… just not in this particular fashion context.

Again, there was a curious selection of jewellery to accompany her selection, but in a crazy kinda way it almost, maybe, just about worked – if I was 15 years younger, and had enough boho sass to carry it off.

But my makeover journey was far from complete. Next up, hair. I sat obligingly, while Big Sis fussed about with the hair brush, twisting my hair this way and that. And, do you know what? It actually wasn’t half bad.

Now there was just one stage left to complete: make up. I sat on the edge of the bed as the girls busied themselves with brushes and palettes and creams, their faces up close and peering intently at mine, occasionally turning to each other. ‘Oooh, that looks so pretty and shiny!’ ‘Wow! So does yours!’

Are you ready for the final reveal? It’s really rather special – I’m calling the look ‘Black Swan, meets Día de Muertos’.

So? What do you think – is it a good look for me?