ISSUES & TISSUES — The RBF Disaster Diaries
It starts with one innocent message.
“Anyone fancy a wee drink Saturday? Nothing mad.”
Nothing mad. Remember those words.
Because by Saturday afternoon, someone’s booked a blow-dry, someone’s ordered three dresses, and the woman who said she “couldn’t be bothered” is asking whether diamanté boots are too much.
Apparently, we’re going casual.
Casual now requires a charging cable, an emergency outfit and a full parliamentary debate about where we’re going.
The preparation has become an event
There was a time when getting ready meant putting on a nice top.
Now there’s a schedule.
Hair washed. Outfit tried on. Outfit rejected. Bedroom destroyed. Same outfit tried on again, this time with different earrings.
You’re standing in a towel at six o’clock, surrounded by clothes, announcing that you have “absolutely nothing to wear”.
There are forty-seven things on the bed.
None of them understand the assignment.
Then comes the message:
“Taxi’s booked for seven.”
Seven? As in tonight?
Tan before the panic
This is why we believe in getting the tan sorted before the group chat develops ambitions.
RBF’s Tan O’Clock Somewhere belongs in that little getting-ready ritual: music on, phone down, a bit of time for yourself before someone asks you to book the restaurant because “you’re good at that”.
Follow the instructions on your bottle, give yourself time for it to develop, and keep the last-minute drama for choosing your shoes.
Because tanning while one eyelash is hanging off and the taxi driver is ringing isn’t a beauty routine.
It’s a hostage situation.
Nobody’s looking at your knees
Here’s what happens when you finally arrive.
You see your friends.
Someone screams your name like you’ve returned from war. Someone tells you that you look gorgeous. Someone’s already explaining a situation that absolutely requires sitting down.
Within ten minutes, nobody cares about the outfit you nearly cried over.
You’re laughing. Properly laughing. The kind where your face gives up trying to look attractive.
That’s the good bit.
The tan, the lipstick, the earrings you borrowed and will definitely forget to return — they’re part of the fun. But you don’t need to spend the evening checking yourself in the front-facing camera.
Get the photo.
Then get back to the table. There’s gossip happening.
A wee drink, they said
By the end of the night, the diamanté boots have been declared an excellent decision.
Someone wants chips.
Someone’s insisting she’s “actually grand”, while holding a wall.
And the group chat has seventy-three new photographs, six of which must never leave the group chat.
Tomorrow, there’ll be tea, a missing earring and a message saying:
“Girls, that was some craic.”
It was.
Even if “casual” turned out to be the biggest lie told all week.
Next night out brewing? Get your Tan O’Clock Somewhere ready, then let the group chat do its worst.
Shop your shade: Medium · Dark · Ultra Dark
Love, Janice 🩵
