Sunday, 13 September 2009

Get outta ma pub!

I have estimated that over two thirds of my salary is spent on vintage lovelies or just plain beautiful bounty. My weekends are filled with jumbles, bootsales and rummaging (ebay is another story for another day). I cannot pass a charity shop without inhaling the musty fumes and diving into the golden oldie lovliness. And while I am giving to a good cause - my vintage blood red purse with gold clasp is drowning in a sea of Oxfam and YMCA housing trust receipts and tags. My wardrobe is swelling and my overdraft has gone from red to dead.

This is something I simply cannot afford. If I am going to buy a house with a green door for me and my beau, I need to find some willpower to stop spending. The Peggy French suits need to be traded for something Peggy Mitchell could get in Walford Market.

According to Wikipedia 'the practical function of clothing is to protect the human body from dangers in the environment'. Great. I have spent many years protecting myself from the dangers of British weather, nature and other known (and unknown) hazards, in fake fur, raw silk and sequins. From now on, I will protect myself for as little money as possible.

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