I’ve just made £66 on ebay from selling shoes that have never fit me but I was too stubborn to admit it. I wanted small looking feet and figured if the chinese came up with the idea of feet-binding, then I could deal with a little discomfort of tight fitting shoes. Obviously, I didn’t read about the deformities that occurred due to foot-binding. So anyway now I have, and hastily sold most of my size 4 shoes. Most.
In doing so, I have manifested funds for a new black slip dress, some shoes that aren’t shoes but are kind of trainers and plimsols, but also not (I have no idea what they are actually, surprise shoes), and also some mini polka dot hair straighteners. I feel distressed when I travel and can’t take my amazing spin-dry hairdryer with me, so these hair straighteners should give me enough of a curl to get me through the day. Phew.
As I’m as flat chested as a 13 year old boy (burger consumption permitting), the slips lacey bust has a futile existence. I covered it with a cropped tie-top from Topshop that I’ve struggled to wear thus far, as I haven’t had an exposed mid-drift since the days of raving with glow-in-the-dark belly button piercings. Remember those days? Of course you don’t. Also, I found that the layer helps give a bit of shape to the dress too. Please note the surprise shoes and if you know what the correct name for them is… don’t tell me actually, I like the name surprise shoes.
Jacket, cropped top, slip, necklace, bag and shoes: Topshop
I can’t believe how many things I’m wearing from Topshop. Pretty horrendous, but it’s rescued by the fact (according to fat people) I’m wearing such a vast combination of black that I’m virtually invisible.
A few years ago I bought some grey leopard print leggings from Miss Selfridges. But I never really felt comfortable wearing them outdoors as they looked more like pajamas, so I wore them around the house and in bed. Then recently, while falling asleep singing an X song in my head, I had a revelation – I wanted some standard brown leopard print leggings, and I wanted them now. Thanks to ASOS’ new free delivery policy, I dragged myself out of bed and bought them immediately.
I have now received them (a teeth grindingly long 5 days later) and even if I think they only go well with baggy t-shirts, I still want to wear them every day. I love them so much. They’re like a lazy gesture at looking more interesting or staaahlesh. I dunno, I have no regards for what is fashionable, I read girlie magazines because I don’t have any other interesting hobbies. I went through my horses phase when I was 11, and grown women reading Cats World on a train usually smell like fish and beef jelly, so that’s not an option; however much I love the fluffballs. The music magazines are really disappointing these days, I remember when NME was in newspaper form and 90p. Funnily enough I’m quite bitter about spending £4 to read about music I don’t even like. And you can’t buy riot grrl zines in WH Smiths, unfortunately. So, Cosmo it is then (turns out I’m a selfish lover and I have cystitis).
I also ordered a Kill Rock Stars tote bag, that is huuuge and has tons of lovely pockets to lose my phone in and panic when I can’t find it.
When I went out wearing this outfit I felt really self conscious because it’s pretty much my pajama outfit, minus the grey leopard print leggings; and fluffy bootie slippers of course. It is, however, the comfiest clothes ever compiled in the history of dressing. If there was no fundamental laws of physics, I’d go back in time (in my phonebox) and rub it in Victorians faces. I’m not even wearing a bra, fuck you.
T-shirt: American Apparel
I have been stalking this Finnish girl for months now, I found her on lookbook and am now obsessed with her blog, she’s adorable. Only 17 though, so it makes me feel a bit like a weird old man rubbing my knees while scrolling down her blog with my penis. Anyway, she has inspired me to make this blog a bit more easy going, and more of a place to put up any old pictures, instead of this fashion Nazi style I’ve accidentally adopted.
I’ve recently acquired 3 pairs of the same shoes in different colours. The best part about this insanity is the first pair (pewter) were £35, the second pair (black) £20 and the third (bronze) £10!
That picture gives me vertigo but I took it pretty much in the dark with a good flash. The pewter are so soft they’re like wearing slippers, but I was really disappointed by the black pair as they are really thick and aren’t that comfy, I may even sell them. The bronze are quite comfy but not as much as the pewter.
I think there’s only a turquoise colour left in this range of shoe. I’m not European enough to pull blue shoes off, perhaps that Finnish girl has a pair. I’ll check her bins for a receipt.
A little while ago I was begrudgingly walking around Morden charity shops while holding my breath, when I found a pretty nice polyester jumper for £2. It’s not normally a colour I’d ever even consider wearing. But I guess that’s what’s so great about charity shopping, you don’t really have much of a choice and it’s so cheap you can afford to try new things out.
I would usually prefer to enter the spinning hellmouth that is Primark, than sift through rails of white leather skirts and multi-coloured stripe crop tops with suspiciously soiled armpits. This helps me sort of have no guilt about buying sweatshop made clothes, at least they’re only soiled with childrens tears.
I’m a bit of a charity shop/vintage snob, in the way what I think it’s vile wearing peoples second hand clothes. I get so freaked out about the snotty sleeves and the tissues in pockets and scrunchies in the bottoms of handbags. YUCK. But sometimes I can just about handle it, after a high temperature, vigorous wash.
Due to the vigorous washing, I’ve given this jumper enough electrical charge to keep the head-torches beaming on the sweatshop kids for long enough to finish my summer wardrobe. Instant reminders of how much of a terrible person I am for shopping in Primark are delivered to me in the form of static shocks and making my hair stick to my face. So actually, I am not a winner in this instance.
Jumper: British Heart Foundation
Jeans: New Look