Monday, 27 December 2010
The winter sales are killing me. In my working life the shop is overwhelmed by the metal sale racks that lie like a spine down it's centre; it obstructs movement and sight and is downright annoying. In my personal life I have been left disappointed by the meagre offerings that the Topshop and H&M sale have provided and am distraught to find that my much loved and much talked about Kate Moss fur trim dress has been relegated to the sale rack or more probably, the floor. Yesterday I bravely attempted a Boxing day browse, Santa has been good to me and I have vouchers to spend and I have often found the Topshop winter sale to be the most lucrative with lots of sequins and embellishment at a reduced rate. Just last year I found a fringed cropped t-shirt with sequin shoulders that I wore approximately one hundred times in 2010. This year was a different story. As soon as I walked in I wanted to leave, there were people physically pushing and it appeared that the most successful way to look through the racks was to join a giant, evil, conga line. As I snaked through the shop I was shocked to find that the majority of the merchandise was bundled on the floor, probably not ideal when people's feet are in a constant state of sodding due to the weather. The clothes that had manged to cling on were unsurprisingly rubbish, or a size 22. I couldn't handle it so I went downstairs to seek solace in the positively calm environment of the full price stock, however, it was a wasted journey and nothing caught my eye. Feeling defeated, and with the neon pink gift card burning a hole in my pocket I went for one last scan of the sale and in a moment of madness I picked a cropped spotty jumper up off the floor and fought my way to the till. I wore the jumper today despite it being a size 16, I think I might wait until the sales are over before I venture out again because who knows what I might buy next time.