The Famous Five

I have a leopard print onesie that I love with all my heart, even though it is starting to smell really weird. Do you have an item of clothing or maybe piece of jewellery that you never, ever plan on chucking out? I suspect that my reaction to someone trying to take it away from me would resemble some of the crazies that feature on Trinny and Susannah’s “What not to wear”. Picture the scenes where someone begs and pleads for the non-disposal of their matching tie-dye suits? That’s what this onesie is like to me.

This onesie is special to me because I wear it at any given opportunity in my private time, but it has also become particularly well known in the public sphere. Today, it will receive the credit it deserves by being shown in the 5 most public places I wore it.

1. Claremont

If you read back to “What’s my Age Again?” on this blog, you will discover that the first major excursion this onesie experienced was to the nightclub-filled streets of Claremont, Cape Town. As part of a dare, I agreed to wear it if I recieved 50 likes on a Facebook status.

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The rest is history.

Some of the sentiments I received from the people I encountered were telepathic and communicated through the deathly glares of passers by. Others were drunkenly proclaimed both to me (“Why are you wearing your pyjamas?”) as well as quietly between friends (“Well… she lost a bet”). But mostly, everyone was really impressed by the Woolworth’s-bought wonder and envied my comfort throughout the night.

2. Rocking the Daisies

Rocking The Daisies” is a music festival hosted at Cloof Wine Estate. This event is one of the highlights of 2013. All you need to do to make the event a success is:

  • Stock up on food. I would NOT recommend stocking up on Sweet Chilli Sauce. I still kind of struggle to consume the stuff without enduring an emotionally traumatic flashback in which my tent-mates and I collectively spill the contents of multiple bottles across our tent such that I was left scooping it up using only a packet of dried up wet-wipes (sometimes people forget to close the seal… it happens).
  • Stock up on alcohol. (I have no flashback of this, unfortunately)
  • Take a onesie.

My onsie was a roaring success for two reasons.

Firstly, onsies (as well as flower-crowns) are clearly a festival “must-have”, for I blended right in with the crowd:

Panda
Posing with a Panda. Why not?
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This guy’s words: “Our kinds don’t usually mix, but let’s take a photo?”

 

 

Secondly, it was unbelievably cold that weekend and I was very snug in (insert name of onesie once it is thought of).

3. Skiing in France

I will be honest – I did this more to say I had done it than for any practical reasons. Along with my friend, Kate, we suited up in our onesies and hit the slopes of the French ski resort, Val D’Isare.

Here is the essence of the experience:

  • It was bloody cold, which made accidentally getting on a half-hour-long ski lift reasonably unpleasant.
  • We looked particularly fat because, due to the abovementioned point, we managed to fit our onsies over our actual ski suits.
  • We received many sideways glances and even more point-and-laugh situations.

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4. UCT Upper Campus

We have a club at UCT called “Social Tennis”. It’s a brilliant thing to do if you want your parents to think you spend your time playing games such as Tennis and not just gallivanting around in your onesie. At least, that’s why I did it.

The club is primarily for socialising, dressing up and playing a friendly game of tennis. The thing that surprises me the most by the whole concept is how I managed to get a team to allow me to be on it. In their defence, though, I don’t think they realised the extent of my questionable sporting abilities until I got hit in the head with a served tennis ball.

5. Bungee Jumping

Just outside of Plettenberg Bay sits the highest commercial Bungee bridge in the world, Bloukrans. My friends Daisy and Camilla and I decided that this last December was the time to engage in what my mother thought was the worst idea I had had since I decided to ski in a onesie.

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Don’t be too impressed by my “bravery”. It was round about this stage where I started screaming and crying for them to take me back up.

On the off chance that the rope snapped and I went pummelling to my death (I went into the experience with a very open mind…), I decided I should wear my onesie so that, even in the case of tragedy, I at least looked cool.

This onsie has been borrowed, stretched and enjoyed by many a person. I am nothing but proud at how far it has come (stifles tear) and how it has stayed in one piece (literally. Ha). Despite the alarming smell that seems to have seeped far too deep to ever make a full recovery, I will always be slightly indebted to how great this onesie has made me feel on so regular an occasion.

 

 

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