And not just shopping. Shopping for a wedding.
I hate formal clothes. Don't get me wrong, there are some gorgeous suits out there, but suits inevitably reflect their cost. Cheap looks cheap, whatever anyone tells you. Casual clothes are much more subtle in the levels of poverty/nonchalence/colour blindness they portray.
In general, this year's winter wear is all golfenfogey or hippy chic. I love the latter, and could have spent lots of money last night, except that we were looking for an outfit for me to wear to a wedding on Saturday,so forget prettiness; the whole idea of these things seems to be to put a lampstand on your head and then wear a matching table cloth underneath; ugly is good, provided it's very very expensive. We went to the Trafford Centre, where we passed shops full of such stunning horror I wanted to lock myself in Audrey Hepburn's wardrobe and never come out. And you can imagine how my mood was shaping up:
Great. I am going to buy horrible, overpriced clothes and curtail my evening's pleasure at a chum's birthday in order to attend the wedding of people I've never met in a golf club full of people with whom I have nothing in common. Any attempt at looking pretty will be thwarted by a) the clothes themselves and b) the fact that, as the ceremony is 3-5 hours car drive away I am not going to have time to tart myself up in the predawn before we go, and when we get there I am going to look as washed out as I feel. An exercise with no point except to deprive me of money, sleep, and enjoyment the night before. Yeah, I know, they're in love, and they want us all to share. Couldn't they be in love on another day? somewhere more central, or better still, impossibly far away?
Admittedly, leaving the necessary shopping til two nights before may not have improved my mood, and
larians may have heard some or all of these opinions. Repeatedly. He was very patient, especially considering his past readiness to drive to the ends of the earth for weddings between my friends. He also has a much better eye than mine for clothes, matching, accessorising, etc. I wanted a blue velvet jacket with spangly jeans and faux fur. In the end, we compromised with smart hippy chic; a crumply chocolate skirt and some floaty brown gold thing. It's nice and hassle free: no gloves, no hat, no flowers. We had a beer to celebrate surviving the expedition without falling prey to insane hordes or insane prices.
No way am I going through this for Christmas. Time to stare at wish lists.
I hate formal clothes. Don't get me wrong, there are some gorgeous suits out there, but suits inevitably reflect their cost. Cheap looks cheap, whatever anyone tells you. Casual clothes are much more subtle in the levels of poverty/nonchalence/colour blindness they portray.
In general, this year's winter wear is all golfenfogey or hippy chic. I love the latter, and could have spent lots of money last night, except that we were looking for an outfit for me to wear to a wedding on Saturday,so forget prettiness; the whole idea of these things seems to be to put a lampstand on your head and then wear a matching table cloth underneath; ugly is good, provided it's very very expensive. We went to the Trafford Centre, where we passed shops full of such stunning horror I wanted to lock myself in Audrey Hepburn's wardrobe and never come out. And you can imagine how my mood was shaping up:
Great. I am going to buy horrible, overpriced clothes and curtail my evening's pleasure at a chum's birthday in order to attend the wedding of people I've never met in a golf club full of people with whom I have nothing in common. Any attempt at looking pretty will be thwarted by a) the clothes themselves and b) the fact that, as the ceremony is 3-5 hours car drive away I am not going to have time to tart myself up in the predawn before we go, and when we get there I am going to look as washed out as I feel. An exercise with no point except to deprive me of money, sleep, and enjoyment the night before. Yeah, I know, they're in love, and they want us all to share. Couldn't they be in love on another day? somewhere more central, or better still, impossibly far away?
Admittedly, leaving the necessary shopping til two nights before may not have improved my mood, and
No way am I going through this for Christmas. Time to stare at wish lists.