September 6. Day 250. Mirror, mirror on the ball

I bought a pair of jeans this week, the first in I'd estimate six years.
There is a particular torture involved in jean buying matched and surpassed only by trying to purchase swimwear.
Unforgiving light, mirrors from every angle and things that cling in all the wrong places, it is not a happy experience.
I'd never make a Wicked Queen because my conversation with the magic mirror would go something like this: "Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, who has the fattest arse of all?"
And it really wouldn't matter what the mirror replied because I wouldn't believe it anyway.
In so many things, we only see what we want to see. We can each hold a mirror up to the world and each see something a bit different being reflected back.
Which is why I liked the Golden Casket Light Sphere, a giant mirror-covered globe which was being set up at South Bank today as part of the Brisbane Festival.
So many different takes on the same landscape all coming at it from a slightly different angle.
It is even possible that there is one  angle where my bum didn't look big in jeans. Perhaps not. That would be a trick requiring both smoke and mirrors.