Some time ago I was invited to an utterly fabulous event – a girl’s PJs party organised by Women’Secret. The rules were simple, turn up choose your PJs and make your way to the actual party organised at the Hugo’s Hotel. All well and good. Whilst we were in store supposedly choosing our PJs, I was busy chatting and s,o didn’t give much thought to what others were choosing. You see I had cheated slightly, I had asked the store to save my choice in advance, I thought everyone would want my ultra cool – mickey with emojis pajama. We changed at Hugo’s Hotel and as I looked around, I noticed what my hubby very amusedly pointed out later after viewing my live video – everyone had chosen something glamorous, or something sexy and I was in Mickey. My hubby never tires of describing me as ‘cute’, when I try to get clarification on what this adjective actually means, I don’t get much further, except for murmurs of ‘ooh but you’re sweet’ and that sort of thing. I don’t actually mind being cute but you know we all crave to be hot like Beyonce or ooze Rihanna’s powerful sexy vibes. I think I understood what he means by ‘cute’ on that night, after all, mickey was my actual choice, my choice from before the event without any other outside influence. So yes, I’m the girl who cried as a child if there were no pink balloons left to take home after the party. I was the teenager who owned more soft toys than underwear and I will always be that girl who took a furry diary as a notebook to a tech lecture at university. So maybe I’ve reached some sort of acceptance – I’m not really the sultry type. If you’re wondering how the actual night went, it was fab – we played games, took a hell of a lot of photos, had some wine, ate some pizza and had a ball. Thanks to Women’Secret for being such damn good hosts.