This morning I went to the corner shop in my pyjamas. Yes. I'm that person. The kind who puts on flip flops when it's raining and has scruffy bed hair when she buys her newspaper and a pint of milk.
Stood in line with my purchases, I was keen to return to my weekend indolence where all that matters is tea, toast and fine smudgy print. Behind me, however, was the judgemental squad. A long line of pitying glances, as if I was a homeless person who had found a pound coin and the first thing she must do is treat herself to skimmed milk and a liberal broadsheet. One or two were stunned by my audacity to leave the house looking less than perfection. People go out without mascara and lip gloss? Our eyes! Our poor eyes!
Does my lack of style, at 7.30am, really matter in the great scheme of things? I wasn't on my way to a job interview. I wasn't off to meet friend's in town. My big plan was grabbing my weekend favourites and returning to bed to watch crappy morning TV. I didn't realise I needed Gok Wan's assistance to enter the high society that is the corner shop. Forgive me, please.
Why are people so judgemental? It's yet another one of those unanswerable questions that life likes to throw at you but please, I'd really like the answer.
Psychologically speaking, it's possible that we have an internal self-belief that everyone should behave as we ourselves do. An ideal representation of socially correct behaviour. When we come across someone who breaks this self-belief, someone who challenges it, is that when judgement occurs?
I don't know, reader. Consider me flummoxed.