Sales Success!

I hate hate hate sales shopping. The crowds, the heat, the smell; but I especially hate the fact that the sales make Selfridges look like the Bolton branch of Primark at the end of busy day of the dregs of society buying ethically immoral, already-yellowing vest tops.

So you can imagine my reservations when there was a family announcement that we would be braving the crowds and going, spending money in Juicy Couture purse, to Selfridges. It started off badly. We couldn't park. *sigh* After we finally smuggled ourselves into the car park, I was given an hour to go merrily off into the wild (the ground floor)and come back bearing the fruits of my labor. Well, All Saints was scoured, as was Diesel, Miss Sixty (cringe)and Pepe Jeans (double cringe)and only one skirt was bought from All Saints. A blue bubble skirt to replace my worn out black one.

I was in a terrible terrible mood as when I was sent out on my second excursion for another hour into the wilder wild (the third floor)I STILL could not find anything. Not even in my absolute favourite Marc by Marc section where I found my wonderful William Broome illustrated leggings. I tried on a Vivienne Westwood suit, but to no avail- it seems that suit was destined for Amy Winehouse only. The only success I had on the thrid floor was a really pretty black chiffon Whistles skirt, but that doesn't count as it was from their new collection- I seem to gravitate towards nice, neat, orderly rails of clothes.

But alas! I had forsaken the second floor! So down I trot and as I search I see a lovely maroon pleated skirt from Hobbs' sister label, NW3- it's A LOT nicer than it sounds. So i tried on a skirt in my size that I didn't really like just to see if that would be the right size. It was maroon again but with blue, black and white stripes going diagonally across it- think grown up Lolita. I tried it with a cotton, off-white shirt with a little neck tie of the same material around it, and- success! With just ten minutes to spare, I literally ran to the checkout to pay for my suprise finds. When they were paid for, I started smugly strolling back to base for debriefing and cocktails.

Hark! Is that an almost exact copy of Vivienne Westwood pirate boots I see before me in the softest leather? Yes, I do believe it is! But wait! I only have two minutes until I have to be back at base for debriefing and cocktails....*rush rush rush* "Can I get these in a size five, please?" *wait wait wait* "Argh! I can't get them on! Oh, yes I can! They are the perfect fit, like I'm gliding on clouds. Lets get 'em!" *run run run* Success!

Dear reader, it is my belief that Karma helped me secure sales success. I have been a good girl all year (as my heftily filled stocking will testify- an iPhone, a sewing machine, a Nikon camera, Moleskine goodies and The Prodigy tickets to boot!)and Karma knew this about me. Oh, fat Buddha of the mountain, everytime I wear my cloud shoes made of the finest, oh-so-softest leather, I shall think of you and mentally rub you tummy as a geture of appreciation.

I don't like Mondays...or trousers

It's Monday today and I am in a BAD mood. I woke up in the Amazon Rainforest that is my room, stood under the trickle that is my shower,got my test results back which say there is something abnormal about my liver so I need MORE tests, and realised that I am a complaete failure and should go hide under a rock until third year is over.

With all these calamitous factors conspiring against me, I usually turn to my wardrobe to cheer me up. Dress the way you want to feel I say, and I want to feel beautiful. *Opens wardrobe* "Oh, look! All my dresses are in the wash, I'm going to have to wear trousers today." Trousers I say!

Now, when I was a wee lass, I used to live in trousers and shorts. Wearing skirts and dresses when climbing trees was just not conducive to my life. And then when I came to university, I realised that I hate wearing trousers. In fact, I now only own three pairs and they are all jeans: one pair of blue denim high waisted, wide leg jeans from Abercrombie; another pair of blue denim stretchy jeans from Abercrombie that I've had since I was fifteen (I hasten to add that I only wear these when I am ill); and one pair of ultra skinny black jeans from All Saints that I hardly wear anymore becasue they are generally made for people with eating disorders.

So imagine how upset I was when, at the one time I needed cheering up, all my dresses were unwearable. After planning on going to the library for the rest of the day, I have been forced to stay inside away from people who might see me in this depleted state with only a cup of black tea for solace (no rich tea biscuits to boot!).

Dresses make me feel happy and girlie, even when they are teamed with my faithful All Saints boots and never fail to cheer me up. But for now, I am afraid that I will have to make like a leper and rot in my room until my washing is done.