In all my long years of reading blogs but not writing one, it seemed to me the activity of blogging must be a good way to define what you’re really into. In the few months since I’ve gotten round to setting this up, I’ve found the opposite to be true. There’s the last post about my frivolous distractions (though I’ve done a 180 on that again) but also a growing bank of unpublished drafts, never to be finished since they no longer make sense in my here-there-everywhere narrative. The more I plan, the more scope there is for me to go completely off-piste as soon as I see something shiny.
Still, I am trying – which makes it all the more galling when I go to town with shopping list in hand, and am cruelly DENIED. Cobra-print Monki shirt? Not in the shop. Supercool Zara slip dress? Not over those hips. For the latter point, see also: frustration in the changing rooms of American Apparel, & Other Stories, and Topshop. Undeterred (okay, I was very deterred) I poked around Beyond Retro, where lo and behold I found two things that fit perfectly. So what if one of my finds is a work-inappropriate, barely-there summer dress? St. Michael was looking down on me. The other is at least kinda with-the-program – a high-waisted houndstooth skirt that’s got both respectability and a bit of edge.
Precisely zero evidence of dem problematic ~curves~ in this get up, but them’s the breaks. Pretty excited just to wear a jumper, if I’m honest. Accuweather assures me there’ll be one more weekend where I can break out the M&S dress in all its glory, but we’ll see. Best not to make plans, eh?