The Leotard Lady

I’ve been wondering of late whether I’d finally got used to here; had I become jaded and inured to delights of Bangkok?

And then… last week I got an email informing me that ‘the leotard lady’ will be in the gym at school on x date between these times. The letter invited parents to come along.

Crikey; this could mean anything in Bangkok. I thought for a minute about what this ‘leotard lady’ might be doing and then I realise it probably won’t have anything to do with ping pong balls, will it? Not if it’s in school?

I read further down the email, and all was explained.

So yesterday, I went to school to meet the leotard lady. I bumped into my friend’s husband and told him why I was in school. “Really? Bespoke leotards?” He said.

‘The Leotard Lady’ was sitting on one of the benches at the edge of the gymnasium. She spoke no English. She had a pile of leotard catalogues and a bag full of stretchy, glitzy lycra type material.

I had a little worry (as is my way) that this was an outrageous thing to let Daughter do – made to measure leotards? Will she ever recover from such extravagance? Then I heard the price (it was fair.) I thought about the cheap ones we’d bought here that had fallen apart after a few washes. And I considered the outrageous expense of the ones I’d seen on the internet when I’d gone looking for better quality leotards than the ones we'd got here.

Daughter and I rummaged around the swatches and we picked out a dazzling array of ‘see me, here I come’ twinkly fabrics and two leotard designs with ‘go faster’ stripes on them.

In two weeks the leotard lady will be back to deliver the garments. I can hardly wait.