And so I braved the weather, and I'm still here to tell the tale. There's no denying it, my love for shopping exceeds all normal reasoning, even that of the possibility to break bones. But I didn't break the bones, although my feet got drenched, and my hair still shows sign of rain-battering. I actually really wished I had one of those really ugly patent PVC caps like the ones worn to hide the bald patch by the no-good men loitering in public toilets in London's underground. I would not have loitered, and toilets would have been out of the question so maybe they wouldn't have looked so bad on me. Oh and I would have had flaming red hair underneath, if there is one thing I don't qualify for it's baldness, thanks to the very kind angels. But I had no cap, no umbrella, and still went for it. Hoping no shrink is reading this because I'm not too keen to be diagnosed with something, although if it means I'll be let free to prowl the shops then it would be a very small price to pay. Well small next to the bills I am running up on these dreaded and addictive sales. What I wanted to buy this morning, I had no idea. I just know what I ended up with and that's a beautiful coat in winter white which automatically made me feel like a virgin the minute I put it on (sometimes there's no harm in pretending), a beautiful grey cashmere suit for the office, except that I do not have an office to go to (but there again no harm in pretending), another funky purple suit which would take me from the office to a night out, (except there is no office and I could easily put six hours of sleep between my working hours and my nights out), a pair of jeans which I could wear all the time (no pretending here), a black casual sweater which I could wear all the time too, and a sexy please-take-a-look-at-my-cleavage-won't-you? top with roman sleeves which immediately gave me a power trip big enough to kick everybody in within my range, and which would be bang up to date for Friday evenings out in some sophisticated wine bar, except for the fact that I stay in on Friday nights, because there is not way I'm missing Crime Nights, and also because it would be very difficult to find me in a wine bar in the first place seeing that I hate the looks when I order my good old Diet Coke, I don't think that ordering a 10 inch dildo would raise as much eyebrows which also could do with a good old wax. Oh and lastly, and I had to drive like a mad woman for this, I also bagged (no pun intended) the white Chanel bag to go with my now new possession of a white winter coat, or a winter white coat, depending on if you're intent on colour-coding or not. And in between I managed to find myself in my favourite shoe shop, only to find out there there wasn't even one shoe in the whole shop which would fit me. There I was, lugging the new baggage (as if I haven't got enough of that already), my feet drenched to the bone, my normally chic hairstyle traded into the hairstyle of Cinderella, and without a shoe, which meant I was having a worse day than Cinderella. At least the only shoe fitted her. In my case, not one shoe fitted me. How plain ugly, just like the sisters, except that thankfully I have no sisters, or it would have made me feel worse.
Anyway, am typing enough silly things to last me to tomorrow's second round of tour de magasins. Because I've got my Chanel so now I just have to jog my memory of St. Joseph High School French a little bit. Oh I forgot, I also did that in A Level, it seems as if it's been one whole downpour, including that of foreign languages. But that has left me with no broken bones. Et donc je me rappèlerai, lentement. A bientot.
Anyway, am typing enough silly things to last me to tomorrow's second round of tour de magasins. Because I've got my Chanel so now I just have to jog my memory of St. Joseph High School French a little bit. Oh I forgot, I also did that in A Level, it seems as if it's been one whole downpour, including that of foreign languages. But that has left me with no broken bones. Et donc je me rappèlerai, lentement. A bientot.
