...You just keep on trying 'til you run out of cake!
Yes, a day of rampant consumerism, removing myself from my natural form and fantastically rich food has made me feel better. I initially went home just to pick up stuff like shoes and cake tins, but since then...
Let's start again. Mother dearest recently received, as a bonus, some Debinham's Tokens. Yes, Debenhams is the fashion equivolent of listening to Kaiser chiefs these days, but still. If you have tokens to spend on things, you go. So, off to Oxford Street we went, to Debenham's, hoping that I'd be able to get a pair of nice boots, a few nice tops and waistcoats and maybe a pair of heels.
Not so. Debenhams, as far as choice goes, it a little shite. I don't mean shite as in "oh noes, nothing is gothic enough for me" or anything like that, I just mean...every fashion item was far removed from fashion, the cuts were uninspiring and often unflattering and most stuff didn't even pass the asthetic test (i.e is it pretty?). I'm also pissed off that even their underwear is more expencive for less pretty and, dare I say it, lower qualities designs. Even Mother dearest, who hates Primark, found Primark underwear much nicer.
Anyway, so found a nice knitted dress for daywear and the nice, hilariously camp, young man on the Urban decay stall did my make-up for me. Urban decay stuff is nice, but nor much better quality than Barry M - save for the fact Mother had some voucher's she was happy to use in the name of capitalism. Otherwise, with my own funds, I doubt I would have bought anything. I tried, I really, really tried, but with the memory of my new fluffy dress fresh in my mind, and looking at Modern cuts of dresses, i felt rather disengaged. Shoes weren't much better - just nothing that fitted, was nice and a reasonable price. Only ever one out of three.
A visit to Marks and Spencer yielded much better results. I lusted over fake fur coats and silk shirts, buying a single set of underwear and some spares. Their selections are much more "spot on", even their somewhat dire, italian-white-trash-a-like Per-Una collections is giving up on hideous knits and "funky" badly cut in horrible colours, skirts and going for simpler, but with a real touch of unique classiness about them. Things got better as I went to H and M, found their clothing dull but their Jewelery interesting and bought a little flower clip that actually works.
A Sushi lunch and Pizza dinner make me very happy, especially as we had edemamie, which whilst incorrectly spelt, are very nice. Admittedly I had to hear about my mother's rampant sex life, which isn't necessarily something one likes to hear about, especially when she's coming into her sexual revelution (those who have heard anything of this saga will know that until recently, the female orgasm is some mythical beast that happened to other people and ate their children) which makes the fact that because you're working all the bloody time, preventing sex happening all the time, a bloody bore (not that it doesn't happen, it does fairly frequently, but unlike my mother, I cannot get away with two hours of sleep a night due to excessive sex because I need to get up, read library books, return them and then write an essay all before 2 pm).
So I'm happy. And it really is all down to taking some time out of oxford panic and instead induling in some mindless consumerism. I've not been feeling fashionable recently - result? I realise that at least half of modern fashion is shit, even if I do like the other half. Also, I am intelligent, even if I talk too much. Also - it's much easier being a family when you don't have to be a family every day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed to be content at some books on fundamentalist religion, which, unfortunately, do not seem particually illuminating.
Let's start again. Mother dearest recently received, as a bonus, some Debinham's Tokens. Yes, Debenhams is the fashion equivolent of listening to Kaiser chiefs these days, but still. If you have tokens to spend on things, you go. So, off to Oxford Street we went, to Debenham's, hoping that I'd be able to get a pair of nice boots, a few nice tops and waistcoats and maybe a pair of heels.
Not so. Debenhams, as far as choice goes, it a little shite. I don't mean shite as in "oh noes, nothing is gothic enough for me" or anything like that, I just mean...every fashion item was far removed from fashion, the cuts were uninspiring and often unflattering and most stuff didn't even pass the asthetic test (i.e is it pretty?). I'm also pissed off that even their underwear is more expencive for less pretty and, dare I say it, lower qualities designs. Even Mother dearest, who hates Primark, found Primark underwear much nicer.
Anyway, so found a nice knitted dress for daywear and the nice, hilariously camp, young man on the Urban decay stall did my make-up for me. Urban decay stuff is nice, but nor much better quality than Barry M - save for the fact Mother had some voucher's she was happy to use in the name of capitalism. Otherwise, with my own funds, I doubt I would have bought anything. I tried, I really, really tried, but with the memory of my new fluffy dress fresh in my mind, and looking at Modern cuts of dresses, i felt rather disengaged. Shoes weren't much better - just nothing that fitted, was nice and a reasonable price. Only ever one out of three.
A visit to Marks and Spencer yielded much better results. I lusted over fake fur coats and silk shirts, buying a single set of underwear and some spares. Their selections are much more "spot on", even their somewhat dire, italian-white-trash-a-like Per-Una collections is giving up on hideous knits and "funky" badly cut in horrible colours, skirts and going for simpler, but with a real touch of unique classiness about them. Things got better as I went to H and M, found their clothing dull but their Jewelery interesting and bought a little flower clip that actually works.
A Sushi lunch and Pizza dinner make me very happy, especially as we had edemamie, which whilst incorrectly spelt, are very nice. Admittedly I had to hear about my mother's rampant sex life, which isn't necessarily something one likes to hear about, especially when she's coming into her sexual revelution (those who have heard anything of this saga will know that until recently, the female orgasm is some mythical beast that happened to other people and ate their children) which makes the fact that because you're working all the bloody time, preventing sex happening all the time, a bloody bore (not that it doesn't happen, it does fairly frequently, but unlike my mother, I cannot get away with two hours of sleep a night due to excessive sex because I need to get up, read library books, return them and then write an essay all before 2 pm).
So I'm happy. And it really is all down to taking some time out of oxford panic and instead induling in some mindless consumerism. I've not been feeling fashionable recently - result? I realise that at least half of modern fashion is shit, even if I do like the other half. Also, I am intelligent, even if I talk too much. Also - it's much easier being a family when you don't have to be a family every day.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed to be content at some books on fundamentalist religion, which, unfortunately, do not seem particually illuminating.