HIDING PLACES

Besides carrying around our favourite and most adored handbag there's nothing more us girls enjoy dragging around than a heavy lump of body hang ups.You lie and are fooling no one if your mumbling,"nah got none." PA-LEASSSE...
After oohh,say ten minutes of sitting down scoffing sweet,sweet cake with my size nothing pal this lunch time,we both immediately regretted our cake sins (having a bloated pig sort of day I'm sure your all familiar with them ladies!?)and this triggered us to have one of those big backside-bad hair day-knobbly knees-armpit cleavage whines.That only us women do so brilliantly.Ah yes we,or more she did raise the intriguing subject of armpit cleavage.Or rather pitage as we have now coined up between us.Rolling up her T-shirt sleeve,fiddling around with the sides of her bra (in public may I add-she has no shame this woman!)she,my slightly mentally unstable friend began demonstrating the effects of armpit cleavage,"There right there don't you see it?"
Nope,what am I suppose to be seeing here exactly?
..."isn't it disgusting?See how my armpit flesh spills, pinches and rolls over the corner of my bra?I can't stand it!I was wearing a beautiful bandeau dress on my date with the boy last weekend.When I leaned over for the kill,suddenly noticing this bizarre ripple of fat protruding from underneath my armpit.I've actual fat armpits can you believe it honey?"
Roar.Of.Laughter was my instant reaction.How we spot these minor and very ridiculous body blunders eh?First there was the does-my-bum-look-big-in-this?Followed often by do-my-legs-look-chunky?Let's not forget the insane lengths many go to for a wash board stomach.Now we've added yet another to the let's beat ourselves up list...fat frigg'in enormous armpits.Really now?Because we don't have enough body issues to digest already.Puns pushed aside.Just how many seconds,minutes,hours,days,weeks, months (...um yeah you get my drift already?) are we girlie's prepared to waste away? Pondering over fat armpits and other insecure body etc's.Swearing all sorts of harsh obscenes to the reflection in the mirror,shouting at our wardrobes whilst having one of those none-of-these-size-tops-fit- me- properly-aahh I look fat in all of 'em rage.*Cringe*
The attitudes towards ourselves,our bodies is embarrassing and weired.Why our brains are determined to remain wired and knotted up this way,generation after generation
beats me?The fashion items we seem to dismiss and essentially deny ourselves because of our little and very insignificant lumps,bumps and armpit cleavage,is,in short insane.All us women are off our rocket aren't we?Paronoid wrecks walking around ooooozing killer style.Yet we can't seem to shred those annoying,intruding nagging thoughts that disturb us when concentrating how to walk in our heels.Will we ever get the balance right?Will we ever embrace our unique bodies?Rebel big time by showing off our quirky imperfections instead of forever trying to conceal them underneath slouchy,lose drab layers of clothes.Come out from underneath your hiding place.Rock that bandeau top/dress and get over the armpit cleavage/'pitage' already!Unless of course you want to be like her(above)and spend your life hiding underneath bookshelves?In which case how very boring.

TRENDS AND TROUBLES

Ah when working in the world of fashion,be it PR/journalist/ head office buyer/designer or sales floor/fashion retail/manager the temptation is never too far
away actually it's never far enough sometimes.Oh how it enjoys pushing your buttons and testing the strength of your willpower.Today I'd say my willpower,was at an all time pathetic low in fact my willpower abandoned me and let me down.Or perhaps I just abandoned it?Whoever is to blame I crumbled into a dizzy,overwhelmed silly swooning little fashion slut,when I came face to face with crayon blue coloured jeans.Yes,yes I know I'm a self proclaimed trend basher(?),my stomach churns at the sight of trend do's and don'ts I feel genuinely sad and depressed by fashion groupies who allow such fickle trends to dominate they're day-to-day wardrobes and life in general.Such behavior leaves me baffled,then every now and then every once in a blue moon the trend effect creeps up on me,I oblivious until it's too late and I'm clutching a 'celeb' trend item in my hand.Denial.Denial is a dirty thing.Truth is for weeks my brain has been bombarded with celebs (whatever they are,umm?)parading around and paaaappped in bright bold coloured jeans in just about every lunch time fashion magazine(Look,Grazia,More etc's) available.The curiosity got her claws on me and I am now technically and officially a trend peddle pusher.Yipes.
There it is I've come clean and said it.If anyone happens to see my style common sense kicking about anywhere.Could you send it my way?Because you and I both know denim is cruel towards me,yet I've picked up a pair of bright denim jeans.*Bonkers. The conclusion-style suicide.I've finally snagged THAT Peacocks bag though after many weeks of high anticipation...the beast of a bag (see below) became available to buy.You could say this bag pulled me back from the edge,the brink of my style denim suicide just in the nick of time.Yep for this isn't any old-new-bag,it's my savior for I am style slave sinner....




Images prettyneons all items Peacocks

HANGING IT ALL TOGETHER:PART THREE

Before you ask,nope I never did get my paws on one of those amazing primark style shoe- pooper- scooper thinnngymebob's nore did I succeed tracking down the shoe-scooper-dupper-dude from primark either and invite him around my place to swoop in on my pile of shoes and scoop 'em all up.I wish.Man I really need one of them shoe-scooper's.What girl wouldn't?It would save the average footwear lurv'in female hours,sparing us all from the tedious chore of organising and clearing up our heels,flats,platforms,converse by hand one pair at a time hour after hour...urgh.Introduce the shoe scooper and bosh!Shoe edit done in nano-seconds.Allowing us to resume to the more important things in life like reading our fashion blogs,and shopping.Now there's a shoe void in your wardrobe,tis time to replenish!
Sadly there was no shoe-scooper for me to snatch,and my shoe blitz continued into the pm zone,considering I began at 11am you can imagine how much of a drag it became?Heyho at least my shoe graveyard is no longer existent,and what a depressing graveyard it was too!Discarded broken heels and converse dating back to my college days.I'm not going to lie here,my once lost love for converse has returned.Those cheaper highstreet imitations don't cut it for me anymore they've no appeal in comparison to the real McCoy-the original converse all stars.I squeezed my toes into an old pair of candy floss pink converse and my heart fluttered in the same way a new crush does.Converse effortlessly switch on the swagger and leave you ouzzing total coolness,if only in your head.I predict a converse splurge coming on...I'll save that treat for another post.Returning to my epic four day wardrobe blitz.It began with the daunting and equally mammoth task of tidying and sorting out the carnage of discarded,forgotten and all round dodgy shoes.With much willpower my floor space is clear, almost apart from the brogues...I kept the lot.What?I've a sacred bond with my brogues,I can't boot them out and into the charity shops.
Shoes all sorted today my focus has been on editing and organising all my dresses...

Ah yes delightful dresses my collection dates back to when star prints were having a bit of a fashion moment,I say bit only of course it has continued at full asteroid speed forcing they're way into our 2011 Autumn/Winter wardrobe,only this time the stars have collided with big fat black and white spots too.The owner of several galaxy printed dresses it won't harm me to part with the other three or four nebula print dresses now will it?I'll just keep hold of four,alright alright the clothes donation bag can have three and that's my finale offer.Left all starry eyed,I poke around,pull out and probe my other remaining dresses.And what a remainder they are.Volumes of floral and blossoms burst out.Is this a clothes rail or a flower basket?All that's missing to make this an authentic looking garden are the weeds.Well would you take a looksee here...weeds.Fashion weeds.Nasty,ghastly, gross and oh-my-god what was I thinking when I purchased these dresses?*Shudder bright yellow and orange fruit salad meets flower print prom dress,which only the kooky Katy Perry's of this world can pull off successfully.I am not her.It must go.Pronto!


Above illustrations courtesy of Sandra Suy

...Excuse me I'm still shuddering over that particular fashion weed.Whoa truly repulsive stuff.Okay I'm over it and ready to crack on.Hold up,wait what is this intriguing chiffon number that's floated delicately on to my foot...fuck not another weed in my floral dominated garbon (wardrobe+garden)this time in the form of a pussy bow blouse complete with granny flower pattern.Remember that micro trend?I despise being yet another fashion victim,yet the evidence lays in a chiffon heap on the floor.Hands up that bizarre granny/floral/tapestry trend lead me astray and off to trend land I followed.I tells you what,I'm not going back to that strange place again.Back to the dresses,these clothes rails are really quite ridiculous.All this time I've been in a state of denial over the extent of my addiction to dresses.I can even spot two of the same boat print dress:at least it isn't floral I suppose?
I riffle through an array of dresses,when I notice a similar pattern occurring...owls and other birds.I was aware that I'm more than partial to owl/ bird based accessories,mostly necklaces.However I wasn't aware of what a sucker I am for a sparrow and owl ditsy print combo.Until I push aside five hangers of the things,making me a sure strong candidate for the next series of Spring Watch.Tweet twhhhoooo this little birdie has a long way to go before she reaches her destination of a perfectly formed and organised wardrobe.

HANGING IT ALL TOGETHER:PART TWO

Yesterday in case you didn't already know the state of my wardrobe caught my attention and to my alarm it was pretty bloody awful the further I went and rummaged into the concealed corners of my wardrobe the more gruesome discoveries I stumbled upon on.I say gruesome as that's exactly what it was in there,not a million miles away from a nightmare.The carnage consisted of a tangled triangle of snapped plastic hangers,a bundle of knotted tights-mostly now laddered,victims of sharp pointy broken clothes hangers: which have no mercy for patterned pretty hosiery.Other such wardrobe victims include cheap and cheerful Primark bags,with zips and straps hanging on for dear life and one nylon thread keeping it's structure in tact.Far from it's former glory.Then obviously there's all those I-JUST-HAD-TO-HAVE-'EM-LIKE-RIGHT-NOW shoes,patent pairs,leopard print pairs,peep-toe pairs,plum purple suede tasseled loafer pairs (I've really made the loafers sound shit and hhuuugley haven't I?In real life those loafers are really quite lovely in an ironic dorkish sort of sense),the future of all the above shoes once looked bright and promising.Yet somehow they got kicked to the wayside,dreams of seeing great things and dominating dance floors disappeared replaced with sitting in their battered shoe box collecting dust instead of dance points.I decide with the shoes my epic wardrobe blitz shall begin!




Above illustrations courtesy of Achraf Amiri

I approach the mass of shoes gingerly,it's resembling a shoe graveyard over here in the left hand corner,right hand corner,middle of the floor and all general floor space this is a sea of shoes and they're waves have crashed and spilled over into other areas of my room.Ah look there's the pest of a platform boot I trip over every single morning in the dim light of dawn.And every morning I aggressively kick it over to one side,and curse obscene censored language to it-as if it can actually hear me and respond to my request of staying the hell out of my way.I think I've just shed a tear as I grab it's partner platform boot and drop it into a charity donation bin bag,there's a sick part of me which will surely miss the daily morning routine of stumbling over and banging my toe on the bed in the process.My dear platform boot your gone but not forgotten.Okay that was nice and easypeasy this wardrobe clear out mission won't take nearly as long as I thought.No sweat this will all be over in five...
As I turn around and see all the other piles of shoes it dawns on me the platform boot was only the beginning.I'm dripping with trepidation sifting through all the shoes.I don't recall ever buying this many pairs of shoes,so I can only assume they've been breeding the brogues especially at a rapid rate.Jeez I have every colour and version of the classic brogue imaginable.I may hold on to the patent pink pair,and nautical navy blue/white pair I forgot about these tanned pair with crochet leather lace detail!THE BROGUES ARE HERE TO STAY.I can't part with these besides I've bonded with my brogues and am yet to bond with the other pink patent pair which admittedly I had no recollection of,but do now and I'm wearing these beauts tomorrow!This wardrobe blitz exercise is obviously counter-productive the contents of my charity shop donation bag is dire.'Come on donate stop keeping all the wonderful shoes to yourself,shoes you've hardly,if ever worn?'my nagging thoughts are right you know.I get stuck in and after two hours (I clearly underestimated the scale of this task.Quite a lot)I'm doing well the donation bag is starting to look hefty,bulging with protruding heels.Plodding happily along,wonder if my shoes will make the charity shop window display?(I always go and investigate whether any of my clothes donations are sat in the window,last time I checked my gorgeous peterpan collar frock failed to make the window display.Yes I was offended and I want it back!Tut*).
Oh how this is becoming so very boring and tiresome:such a drag.Where can I get my paws on one of those giant shoe scooper-uper's that the bloke in Primark often uses much like a doggy pooper scooper only adapted for the use of clearing shoes off the shop floor.Anyways that would be a handy and ideal tool for me and my shoe graveyard,
which is home to some serious dodgy and questionable pairs of shoes.Multi-coloured bow print flats anyone?Whoops somebody allowed their inner 7yr old to influence her decision making didn't they?Oh yes they did.Congrats.Epic style fail.I can't work out why when I'm tidying my shoes up and dumping them in donation bags are they continuing to breed,this fails all logic.Aahh I should be able to see my floor by now!Urrrgh wheres that Primark shoe pooper scooper dude when you need him huh?

HANGING IT ALL TOGETHER: PART ONE

The schizophrenic weather this September has motivated me to declutter,re-analyse,edit and basically blitz my current wardrobe.Now my current wardrobe her personality can be described in three words as scatty,complicated and lazy with no real consistency she's experiencing a confidence crisis.Rolling rails propped up in the dark attic corner(minus one wheel),withdrawn buckling under the dead weight of clothes,bags,accessories and shoes.Knots of recycled plastic,wire,wooden and metal hangers tangled up within fashion scarves,over sized Kurt Cobain style cardigans and crayon coloured lace tops caught up in one leopard print chain shoulder mini bag.Ankle boots,ballet flats and numerous pairs of brogues recklessly kicked off and discarded towards her direction.Wardrobe neglect.Guilty and ashamed I am.It begs the question;how did it ever get this way?Why did I ever allow it to get this way?
And when,oh when did I become a scruffy wardrobe slob?


image Google

When once upon a time I was obsessive compulsive about maintaining order;style order,colour order,length order,size order (bloated days non bloated days).Every little thing had it's position,some items were neatly grouped together.Items such as hosiery (patterned tights non patterned tights)leggings,denim shorts and floaty floral shorts.Admittedly during my once upon a time wardrobe period I had sod else to occupy my empty days with other than claiming jobseekers every fortnight whilst desperately seeking employment.In short I was a fresh fashion graduate,getting my kicks by keeping checks on my wardrobe daily.Anything to dodge the bullets of extreme boredom now dissertations no longer dominated my days.
So the slow decline of my once immaculate wardrobe can be roughly pin pointed during the period I went from unemployed and VERY bored to employed and VERY busy.Right there is when my blissful ignorance and neglect kicked into action or not as my shambles of a wardrobe would reflect.Huff* where do I even begin with this beast of a wardrobe?Textures,colours,shapes,styles,seasons entwined into a web of utter kaleidoscopic mayhem...ah this is going to be so much fun.Erm yeah right.I'll make a start tomorrow.

A* FOR STYLE

Style,jeez can that little innocent word open up a humongous can of worms mostly when in the company of those,stuffy,snooty,stiff,and all so very serious fashionistas.You know the ones?Who will stop at nothing to snag the must have bag and frown upon you if Kate Moss isn't quite your cupa tea,and heaven forbid you dislike an asymmetrical cut or snub bodycon dresses...gasp and how very dare you,go get your head checked out immediately,actually no wait just off with your head altogether.Tut.Tut.
Some like their style to be perfection others individual and original and then there's the few who would strongly argue that to be stylish is to first obtain confidence and adopt an attitude to boot, which cannot be bought via a designer store card.Whatever it may be you can bet your whole entire years worth of Vogue subscriptions that any fashion victim shall surely have a very strong opinion on the subject of style.Don't be too surprised if the style debate rapidly turns a bit ugly and awkward.Because it's one of those topics in which everyone is right,style has no conclusion.Yet many of us still continue to rapidly flick through hundreds of glossy pages in attempt to collect style notes and strive to put those precious tips into practice.And of course we all have our very own fashion icons (some old,some new) which bombard our style hungry brains on a daily basis and influence our day-to-day outfit decisions and purchases.My fashion icon begins with A...and she's making me sway towards,chunky distressed knitted layers,over sized cardigans,leopard print,gold ankle boots and graphic Gothic T-shirts.I call this style U-turn and odd behavior the Alison effect.Goodbye dresses,hmm?










ALL ITEMS FROM RIVEISLAND

GENERATION SHOPPING

Today I had a catch up with the mum,with the drab weather and heavy looming black clouds hanging around, the what shall we do options were narrowed down to just the one classic mother daughter past time.Shopping.It's been an age since mum and I united together as one unit to invade those clothes rails.Our last fashion retail bonding session,erm really didn't end on an ideal note.There was no harmony as we hoovered around the sales.Gawwd that sounds so harsh.No no mum and I are best buds,and neither of us want to disown the other.That is until were confronted with clothes shops...

Today was no exception,I believe together we both tried to tip toe around the delicate matter of going out shopping.It is after all a sensitive subject,a taboo between the two of us.As we both sipped out morning brews and discussed which shops we'd like to hit first immediately it all kicked off,"I'm not too fussed mum,where ever,in what ever order you'd prefer.I'm easy I never strike fashion gold when going out to seek it anyways.You pick."
Great I've delegated smoothly around our little taboo,nice work.
"Forget your charity shop rummage though,yes?"
Wow how about that both a question and answer in one swift sentence,how does the mum do that?
"I have those gift cards for Debenhams,were make that our first stop before they become invalid.I do love my Deb's such a lovely store and when they have a sale it's proper."
Aahh yes Debenhams,Debenhams how I truly hate thee.I (unlike my mum) have no affection what-so-ever towards them bright,stuffy,clynical-esque,mind boggling,multi-leveled mazes.It takes all my concentration simply to avoid a number of obstacles such as a)slipping head over arse on the very OTT buffed floors b)whizzing past those immaculate make-up beauty girls (how do they get those perfect spray on eye brows?)waving their lipsticks wands in my direction and c)not looking an idiot by trying to go-down via the going-up escalators.Tut.I don't do department stores false dot,they're too generic.Once you've seen one you've seen enough forever.Despite all my hard efforts to convince mum to leave Debenhams until later (like never please!)we wasted two too many hours in the place.Those tedious escalators kept on coming each set extending us into an never ending array of fashion labels and offers that not even Gok Wan could digest and appreciate.I actually did revert to my moody
teenage self,by doing the best sixteen year old impression by a 25 year old you have ever seen.Ever.Dragging my feet having sarcastic digs at Debenhams as if they could hear or care about what I think?And yes at one point the lifts looked like a whole lot of fun.Anything to get out of this blatant middle class meeting point.I'm for the fashion under dogs,where's Matalan at huh?And who bought mum these bloody gift cards anyway?Cop out.

Gifts cards all used up we exit Debenhams.The mum with bags,I with a banging headache.Next stop RiverIsland I want a piece of Chelsea Girl.But oh how I wish I didn't.We enter RI all seems to be going Okay,the mum is having a pleasant poke around the bags and shoes while I run towards the Chelsea Girl area.Swooning over frill front blouses,crochet waistcoats/dresses, tan suede lace shorts,and beautiful bowling bags.Like yikes I'm having an elated moment right now..."What's this?"
"Whats what mum?",I genuinely baffled by her mixed expression.
The mum investigates every garment,zooming in and out on each and every crochet,frilled,knitted piece there is to examine.And uh-oh there it is.That look which informs me that the mum is about to fashion preach at any minute now...
"Over priced this is, all of it is over priced.I lived at Chelsea Girl when I was younger it didn't ever cost this!As for that peter pan collar dress,them designers have got it all very wrong.There was no such combination as that,and those colours are a little bit off too.Too early Sixties,Chelsea wasn't established until my late teens."



images chelsea girl

Jeez alright, alright keep it down luv, no need to make a scene and spoil the moment.The probing of Chelsea Girl collection continues all the way to the check out,the mum bemused by the appeal of which RI's vintage inspired collection has on me.Suddenly the irritated and offended original Sixties Chelsea teenager does a sharp style U-turn.Yep I hear an admiring swoon,quite lengthly swoon too.Escape from the mums mouth,"Loafers look at them aren't they niccce,would go lovely with that Orange crochet lace dress and the stripe dress too." Chelsea Girl converted well, back into a Chelsea Girl it would seem?And Oh check me out receiving outfit tip offs on how to do Chelsea Girl properly.I never said two generation shopping couldn't be rewarding!



images chelsea girl

GIRLS AND GUITARS

From Warpaint,The Kills,Versaemerge to Hotchacha it's loudly obvious girls are
strumming the guts out of guitars showing those sweaty,heavily inked rocker boys that females can be as equally fierce and fearless...have no doubt a girl and guitar combo can cause some serious carnage too, so front men watch your backs,'cause the gals are thieving your amps.HA!
Though you all have probably guessed by now that my biggest sound and style crush is firmly fixed on the likes of Alison,Lady Hawke and Gwen circa Return Of Saturn.I'm prepared to shuffle my long term rock icons around to make room for some more brand new rock&roll hotties with a-plenty-of-attitude and style that packs an even louder brash,bold punch.Just please don't make me choose between Sierra and Warpaints Stella I'd happily be a style groupie(?) to both!

PULLED APART BY HORSES

So so every now and then fashion darrrling goes all super cute,fluffy and animal loving on us.And who am I to resist the charms of such adorable little critters...relax no I'm not referring to the cruel usage of real fur.What do you have me down as Fred Flinstone?Nah a piece of I-once-had-a-pulse doesn't much appeal to me,funny that.We choose to be fashion victims animals on the other hand...Okay I won't go all PETA and preach on you peeps,besides for years I've done a damn good job of avoiding the typical vegetarian stereotype(Which by the way grates on me you know those beef burger bullies i.e meat eaters who write us carrot crunchers off as,Holland&Barrett, tofu,tie dye,lavender incense stick,acoustic loving hippies...what's wrong with Holland&Barretts anyways?)it would be a shame to spoil things now.
Right,right now I've dodged that sensitive and rather Question Timesque heavy issue,
shall we not move swiftly on already?Unless you've been stuck in a cave along with the old Flinstone family (is it really that obvious I've just caught an episode of the Flint's on TV...purely by accident I'm hasten to add!)with your head stuck under a rock in the pitch black.You too may of observed the heavy invasion of animal illustration T-shirts,dresses,sweaters and so on.No animal was neglected in the process, oh no they all got their five minutes of fashion fame;owls,rabbits,birds,giraffes,zebra's they all made an appearance for fashions very own stylish Noah's arc.Though does anyone else agree with me when thinking the owls got too much attention compared to all the others?Yes this bothered me, more than it probably really should have, I'm guilty of allowing the whole owl thang too much pondering time.At the start believe me I was lurv'in them tweeting twhoooiiingg wide eyed owls as much as Kate over on Spring Watch (dreadful OAP show for those outside of the UK),heck owl necklaces I must have collected every variety available.I actually overdosed on that micro owl trend.It had to stop.
So it did I went straight on to another animal phase.Horses,oh and unicorns which in fact was a repeat from two years ago when every other post was dedicated to 1)MGMT 2)sequins and 3)mystical unicorns.Hmmm somebody yearned to be a psychedelic groupie?
In reality I'm terrified of both horses and donkeys *embarrassing* but not unicorns they don't exist kids.Wait whoa what's that I see out of my bedroom window?Shit would you believe it.It's only an rainbow coloured unicorn wearing an MGMT T-shirt!
Bonkers.
This next part you may think is a loop hole which I've stumbled across after promising never to mention Asos or Brat&Suzi.com ever again, I'll let you decide on that one.However I confess to of failed big time when I pledged not to spend any more money on Brat&Suzi illustrated tee's.Since making that pledge a year ago or so I've found myself the owner of numerous 'kooky' (kooky needn't be a dirty word)horsey T-shirts and tops.So much so I may just be close to needing some hay and stables to store them all in.Nay?



images Brat&Suzi

PAPER BAGS MAKE ME SICK

Bright hot florescent lights pouring down on my head and fogging up my vision as I gingerly approach the double glass doors to be greeted by a bloated and bored looking security bloke and a stack of tatty blue string bucket baskets.Of which try to bully your brain into buying piles of clobber even before you've reached your first clothes rail.Is this scene sounding familiar to you, or am I the only one who gets shudders from the sight of a pesty Primark?
Now please don't write me off as some sort of fashion snob who only favours designer bags...high end fashion boutiques are alien to me,(hello sadly I still live like a stuck in a rut student, who gets happy on cheap bake beans and free music downloads)chuck away fashion and sales that are so cheap the items are practically free is all this girl knows.Not to be mistaken with actually liking throw away fashion;if I had it my way I'd avoid all them nasty fashion dive holes, crawling with slave labour germs (of course Primark have raised the penniless wage for the third world children now, so I heard on some channel four dispatches episode).Not that fancy fashion lables are completely innocent *cough bunny killers* but at least there is minimum sweaty plastic polyester and broken zips involved,right? So less than five minutes into Primark and like every other weak willed sucker I have one of those blue baskets
swinging from my arm and not one but two giant 4x4 pram's up my arse,and my nose has no other choice but to embrace the smell of a greasy KFC chicken burger that someone is juggling around with in one hand and the other has a complicated grip on several pairs of jeans and bags.
How I envy those other shoppers opposite,splashing out in Miss Selfridge and Topshop with their career bumped pay packets.'Don't drell on it,this is your pay day part-time wages is better than nowt.Now move it theres bargain bin priced brogues to buy, and a ten quid dress sale rail to invade',as I investigate arms of summer clearance clothes I convince myself that Primark can be as pleasant and enjoyable as any of those career girl type shops.A shop is a shop it can't define or stereotype a person.It is what it is.Oh I soon realise eveyone else in Primark, pushing their way through the same arm of clothes as me are mainly college students with messy hair and wearing band tee's.Luckily I efffortlessly blend in amoungst them scruffy lot, my odd embaressment concealed by my ensemble of cage the elephant tee and neon lace leggings.Cunning yeah yeah?Feeling awkward 'round about now.Awkward yet totally down with it,with them the college kidz.And what is this I see?Hmm nice navy blue and red bird print peterpan collar dress, how much, how much?
I eagerly yank out the swing ticket tangled up with a chain of hundreds of other garments,and not too unsimilar to that dark twisted scene from Black Swan.I now the mental case, catch a reflection of myself morphing into a greedy, hungry materialistic maddam.Gasp did I really just elbow some competition out of my way?Poor girl I never meant to, however if you will insist stepping in the way between THAT dress and I...you understand?Seconds later she gets one over on me, her revenge in the form of a sharp plastic and broken (Primark eh?)hanger stabbed into my side.Distracted I lose sight of my postition around the sale rail circuit.Coming in third place to a very pretty Alexa Chung style stalker look-a-like(why is she in here for?Can't she sod off and join the army of cool indie fans in Topper's!)who snaggs the last size 12 bird dress.Left high and dry with only bruised battered elbows and this annoying bloody basket catching onto everything and everyone,my blood boils I decide to depart from the sale vultures and drag the basket and I downstairs to the bag and shoe deparment.

All seems strangely quiet down here,obviously folk can't be much bothered to do shoe-trying-on, on Sundays. Probably too time consuming them roast dinners may be burning back at home,plus repeats of X factor are no doubt doing the rounds of repeat on the box?Must rush back for that. >SARCASM HERE<
All is calm,though evidence strongly suggests shoe lovers have already been and gone, I trip over buckles and heels, slip over laces and end up kicking a pair of fake converse imposter's across the floor in rage (shortly followed by a heavy does of guilt.Such a vandal.Somebody has to scoop this shoe carnage up at the end of the day.Saving up for good karma I do a u-turn and pop the canvas trainers back onto the shelf).Pointy leopard print flats saves me from having a shoe break down.Primark brings out the OCD monster within me,stress levels shoot up at an alarming rate and my head is spinning whilst searching for the correct price tag.No easy feat,problem solving is much required,as there's pen scribbled across the prices.Aahh all the swing tags have graffiti on them.Are these shoes, £15,£12,£10 or £5!Throw caution to the wind I add them to the basket despite whether the shoes will rape my purse or not (I know what your thinking, Primark.Dead cheap.Cannot damage bank.Yeah well it can when your a part-timer-higher-education-debt kinda of gal Okay?Good.Good),standing at till point some funky £2 pack of socks begin to seduce me.'Resist and whatever you do don't cave in,plus do you really need panda patterned socks?Primark has you right where it wants you.Don't allow yourself to become another victim of their merchandising tricks.Your better than this,don't let a sock break you down.'This boredom is beginning to have a rather strange affect on me,hurry serve me let me at that till...I need to punch my pin in and get the hells outta here, pronto!What do you know, wish granted after several customers are defeated, truth be told I wasn't too far behind ditching my no frill fashion goods either.The speedy shop assistant scans through my basket (of which I'm delighted to be parting with!)I clock up a grand total of £35 on nothing too super special,my regret kicks in faster than my receipt is shoved into my bag.Paper bag.No wait I hate, hate, hate paper bags, they scream out 'TRYING TOO HARD TO BE CONTEMPORARY,CLEAVER,COOL AND SOMETHING YOUR NOT'.I've had way way too many awful experiences with Primark paper bags, one involving a down pour of rain when my paper bag turned to a heap of messy mush.I can only await to see what bother this horrid brown paper bag is going to cause me.Legging it away from the creepy clutches of Primark, I sprint out of the bright,lights and stuffy shopping centre atmosphere.Though the speed of my sprinting just isn't enough to leave behind my shame and guilt of wasting money on a pile of what?On a pile of utterly pointless Primark bits and pieces,lose threads and wonky seams which my ignorance has chosen to ignore.Of course if it had been any other garment from any other highstreet store,I'd have snubbed such shoddy style whilst rolling me eyes and mumbling to myself in the corner about how disgusting the price is etc, etc. Only etc's don't come into the sensible equation when caught up in the Primark moment, that fast fashion frenzy...*shocker the fragile flimsy handles on my paper bag have fallen apart along with all my fashion morals and that little thing called willpower.I think your find that has been back at the Primark baskets?

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WHOA WHAT'S WITH ALL THE SILENCE?! Okay well you can stop shouting at the screen now, as I offer my explanation...
I was foolish enough to except a dare (more of a radical change, actually)to step away from the blogs for a whole summer, as my friend grew ever concerned with my heavy fashion posting addiction which apparently "possessed me last summer and is the reason for my ghostly complexion"
Never one to shy away from a challenge (admittedly there was some resistance)I was eager to prove my critics wrong and whilst in the process gain a healthy glow (*failed*). You can guess just how much stick I got when I boasted how it will be a breezzzzze,"fine ,fine I can avoid the void left behind from blogging it really is only a couple of weeks anyways no biggie."I'll continue with my scrap books, and fill my hours with other creative outlets;drawing, drums, writing on actual paper teach my pet lionhead circus tricks?I WILL SURVIVE THIS CHALLENGE.FASHION BLOGS DO NOT OWN ME.
It never even occurred to me how it may send my blog into oblivion until my friend pulled out the plug to my lifeline, erm I mean laptop.
"Your gonna crumble, in an hours time your start sweating and get the shakes because you are obsessed with bloody blogspot and stupid fashion your a victim to the biggest con in history!Plus your be panicking about your readers abandoning prettyneons."
Gasp.Good point of course I wasn't going to let her believe she had hit a delicate nerve with me, what blogger would want to have 0 comments.Honestly now,us writers write because we want it read:be it one two,or a billion people it's nice to have strangers appreciate your words and thoughts.As I allowed my friend to slide the laptop away under my desk anxiety hit me hard and I began chewing my nails- a habit I kicked at seventeen.
Yep it was THAT awful.Oh the dread.The big empty blank hole left behind in the absence of my blogging,who was I kidding?Of course it could never get filled nor replaced by anything else.Four weeks in the teasing began, everyone taunting me about how I may be missing trends, new style blogs and outfit posts.Fickle fashion trends I can live without I'm and never was in fashion for the new and now roller coaster ride those childish what to wear now's. I'm in it for the fun and buzz I get from dressing up-style shake ups, hell yea who needs to sit and analyse weekly trends?What-a-bore. Picking fashion apart and sticking it back together the wrong way and upside down is much more satisfying.However today I decided I cannot take anymore and I reached the conclusion that this summer was depressing and just plain sucked without blogspot, plus my nails are a wreck.Okay so I didn't make it to the end of summer, and now my friend can act smug and do the whole 'I told you so'
She doesn't have to though because I'm admitting and coming clean, no longer in denial...I LOVE,ADORE and am BONKERS about blogging I feel no shame, and despite my efforts to enjoy fashion magazines they just can't cut it like heart on the sleeve fashion/style blogs, I'll always have a place for them glossy, couture fashion pages but I shall not be devouring them in the same way as I do with blogs.Now if you don't mind I have many a draft to publish and post.Aahh post how I've missed selecting that big orange button!