Damnation to Faint Praise

I went to see Bridesmaids the other night and it’s ages since I laughed so much.  No need to tell you it’s this summer’s must see film – and well worth the ticket money - if you’re not too squeamish or easily offended. My man, one of only two males in the entire cinema, thought it hysterical too, so it’s definitely no chick-flick, more a film about female relationships, and despite a whole host of over the top, nigh on gross scenarios, the group of friends portrayed are a bunch of recognisable, if motley, real women. 

On a vaguely related subject. If a friend you’re meeting for lunch greets you with, “You look very modern in that get up,” what do you think it means? Is it a complement - praising an up-to-the- minute/wow that looks nice sort of dress sense - or a thinly veiled criticism? Behind the bright smile, could there lurk an unspoken agenda?

 Well, aren’t you the bold/daft/ridiculous one, to wear slinky leggings at that age/point in your weight loss programme or with that particular tunic top sporting horizontal stripes.  

Do women ever tell each other the truth about clothes?

Does all this matter?

Perhaps not, except I’ve recently got my manuscript back from the Romantic Novelists’ New Writers Scheme, and it didn’t get a second reading. The feedback is very thorough and not all bad news, but I’m feeling a bit over sensitive about faint praise. To crown it all, I've had a short story 'shortlisted' in one writing competition and another ‘highly recommended’ in another. So you see, I've had enough of faint praise.