‘God, I look like a fucken triangle,’ Terri says.
She’s in her room, in front of the full-length mirror, desperate to find an outfit that slims her wide hips and flattens her round tummy.
‘You’re fine, Mumma.’ Brittany, her daughter is on the bed, surrounded by a collection of tops, pants, dresses and skirts. ‘This is the seventh outfit. Just pick one.’
‘Yeah, but which one. I look terrible in all of them.’
‘Mum, for chrissakes! You look great. Too hard on yourself.’
‘Which did you like best?’
‘Um, the wide-legged pants with the plain white shirt. Classic. Classy. Stylish.’
‘You reckon? I thought my lower half was the size of a small planet.’
‘Mum! Really. You’re running out of time. Just put it on. The Uber will be here soon.’
Terri’s first date in decades. She’s a jumble. Wouldn’t be doing it at all if not for Brittany urging her on, signing her up to that ridiculous dating site.
She changes—again—into Brittany’s favourite outfit. Her phone buzzes. The car is here. ‘Well, gotta go.’ She takes one more look at herself in the mirror. Grimaces, pokes her tongue out.
‘Be yourself, Mumma. You’ll be great.’