I don’t like shopping for clothes. Not only do I categorise all non-underwear items of clothing as startling expenses and therefore invariably feel guilty while paying for them (which lasts for up to a week afterwards, no matter how often I shower), the combination of lights and sounds and busyness in shopping centres frazzles my brain and makes my heart pound anxiously until I leave. I would happily move to a much warmer climate and start a nudist colony in order to avoid having to fret about clothing, but alas, my husband (KILLJOY) seems to think that this is an extreme and ridiculous way to avoid having to set foot in a DFO ever again. Instead, I tend to wear clothes until they are threadbare, farewelling them sadly as they float down the street after being blown off my body by a strong breeze. Here is my old jacket:
It’s been my friend for almost 6 years now and we’ve been through a lot together, however there are certain places I feel uncomfortable rocking the “grunge” look, and classy Adelaide restaurants are among them. It was time to move on. Long and boring story later, after only 15 minutes of half-hearted browsing I FOUND MY NEW JACKET! IN AN OP SHOP! It totally knocks my Twilight find out of the number one Most Exciting Vinnies Experience Ever position:
It’s leather and it’s deep-plum-coloured and I’m now one motorbike license away from being the coolest person I know.