However, after my major blowout today I do not think that crazy mad crow is a great idea. I am now the proud owner of:
Some Emma Cook shoes. Fell in love with them some time ago. Convinced myself they were impractical, ridonkulous, ott and I would basically have nowhere to wear such pretty shoes. Cue 2/3 off (oh and did I mention they're actually samples so only about er me will own them) and all of a sudden I have thought of not one, but two occasions to wear them. On a price per wear basis they're gonna be oooooookay. Also, I could have bought a bag that looked like a swan for £120, so really I didn't do too badly. In my defence it was the most butter soft white leather ever. With a Chanel type chain with white leather strung through it. I seriously considered it as only one has ever been made (Emma Cook again) but I carry a lot of shit around with me on the weekend. I'd like to think the teenious of the bag would make me carry less shit. I know it wouldn't. I just end up carrying around more bags. Or calling ahead and making sure MonsieurB had his man bag (I'm lying. I don't have to call ahead. He knows the deal)
Not one, but two Lola Rose rings. THEY WERE CHEAP OKAY. Before you silently judge me over the internet - and I know you are - I am, sorry was, coveting a massive MASSIVE Lola Rose ring in Liberty. Black Agate, silver, massive. I have walked away from it on more than one occasion because I am sensible. Then with over 80% off I find the same ring but instead of silver it's rose gold. I decide to embrace the rose gold for the price. And then to congratulate myself for my bargain hunting I bought another one. High 5 me.
And finally a Tatty Devine no longer produced knock down price brooch.
So whilst I may have gone a little bit crazy it could have been so much worse. To put this shizzle in context I walked around for a good 2 hours being sensible, asking if I really needed things, comparing stuff to things I already own, deciding in my head what I could buy from John Lewis haberdashery department to update my wardrobe and emulate what I could buy for a gazillion pounds and then I LITERALLY had a FRENZIED 20 mins where it wouldn't be unfair to say I was like a woman possessed. Elbows out, eyes on the prize, out of my way bitch I saw it first. And then the eye of the storm, a hand clutching dockets whilst I wearily ask myself what the hell I have done. Then I thought, "Fuck it. Yesterday was pay day".
Plus I spent most of yesterday enjoying a birthday present that it has taken far too long to take advantage of. Cowshed massage (Long. Good. Bruises. Shocked therapist. Peach), facial (Steam. Face. Baby's arse) and eyebrow wax (my fringe hides my eyebrows but still, I read somewhere it's like a facelift. Which judging by the helterskelter ride I'm on really the fuckers should have just been taken clean off). Mmm mmm, that is a tasty burger. Or spa day. As the case may be. Hanging out with some old favourites, doing a whole ladies who lunch hoopla. I'd like to think I could get used to it but the honest answer is I would be absolutely bored out of my skull. There is only so much the internet can offer and are there that many other ladies who lunch? Saying that, I did do the lottery today. And clearly I've not won. Cos I'd not be sat here writing this now. I'd be doing laps and a little dance like the one in Spaced when Brian takes Twist out on a date. I know what you're thinking. Hang on, that dance emulates the one from earlier in the episode where Tim thinks him and Sophie are going to get back together. And you are correct dear, dear nerds. But I think you're forgetting I have the exact same physical fitness as Brian. And like him I also have a massive penis.
I like this. Apparently it's 100% Silver....is this my one and only purchase that I am allowing myself for next month?
I forgot how much I love black nail polish. I have rejected it all Summer but have gone back to it in a fit of madness.
Things I have been doing of late:
❤ David Bailey Alive at Night
Having friends who used to work in PR can be useful....when it means free booze. Mainly stocked up on Grey Goose and pink grapefruit juice. May well be my drink of choice when I go to poncey bars that stock pink grapefruit juice. Ended up outside discussing the essential ingredients needed for a good high five. Apparently I am not forceful enough. Also, my crush on Stevie from Shipwrecked has died a death. He turned up. He was rude. And had really, really, really, really bad shoes. Johnny Borrell spent the night on his own and Salman Rushdie's son seems quite a nice sort of bloke. It was abundantly clear the next morning that perhaps I drank a little too much when I woke up to find that I had dropped the C bomb on Facebook not once, but twice in a status update.
I am still recovering. I got about 3 hours sleep. What you need to know is that a man highjacked my jacket and wore it all night and then when I put it on Monday morning for work it absolutely stank of smoke and I nearly barfed. I don't think I love fags anymore. Which is sad. Cos I was Dot Cotton once upon a time. Liverpool was followed by a long, drawn out game of What Am I? on the way home. Are you smaller than a loaf of bread? Do you bring pleasure? Are you a woolly mammoth? Are you Gary?
❤ (500) Days of Summer
I liked this although the previous illustration is pretty much spot on. And I can't get You Make My Dreams out of my head.
(500) Days of Summer is going to be my new favourite film for at least a week. Just downloaded the soundtrack and I already love it. And it can't hurt that it has a French song on it (even if it is by old Carla)