Wardrobe, Schmoordrobe

I am so over my wardrobe it’s ridiculous. The only way I feel I can call it a wardrobe is because technically it is one: it is a wooden rectangular shaped piece of furniture with clothes in it. But my wardrobe in the broader sense – my collection of clothes – is crap.

I am So. Over. It. It feels like everything in there is either slightly (or completely) stained, got holes in because I tend to buy cheapo clothes, or it just is so last season (my last season, not Fashion’s last season – I don’t think I’ve ever been with the ‘seasons’). Today I headed into the centre of the city (UGH) with the intention of purchasing home making stuff that I needed, but – as is easily done – I got distracted by clothes shops. I also got FRUSTRATED with clothes shops. All I wanted to find were some cute summer shorts or some nice jeans – I was being realistic. I wasn’t hitting the highstreet with the aim to kit out this shoddy wardrobe of mine back home, even though I was longing to really. I just know my attention span for shopping is approximately 1.345 seconds. But still, even being realistic, there was bloody nothing in the three shops I tried. Last resort, I hit Fat Face and fell in love with a dress. I BOUGHT IT. I looked at the price label and swore loudly. I tried it on and I fell in love and thought, screw it. And fuck it felt good.

photo 1-3

I dream of having a collection of clothes I love. Or at least loving at least half of the collection of clothes. The minute I got home I put on the dress and I felt instantly good. Well, I mean good in myself. I felt fucking knackered but I wasn’t expecting a dress to give me beans. But there really is something to be said about feeling good in what you’re wearing. And, not giving two hoots about what the world thinks – it’s all about how you feel in it and whether you think you look good. I know this has been said a million times and it is old news that it is important to feel good but I think I am only just really seeing that.

I get terrified at the thought of spending proper money on clothes, but then recently have noticed myself investing in them. I buy so much of my stuff from chazza shops that I have worked out I deserve the odd investment. But recently this investment has come to a bit of a halt, and at a time I need it the most. SUMMER. I want to feel good when I wear my clothes. I don’t want to feel like the holey muddy scruffy one.

I really wear my clothes. I live in them, I dig in them, I cook in them, I jig in them, so I reckon it’s time to know it is totally okay to keep on investing in GOOD QUALITY and not shoddy quality that breaks a month down the line, leaving me needing to replace the item or just keep wearing it feeling a bit embarrassed or wearing a load of safety pins hidden inside the garment. I did take my new dress skateboarding five minutes after putting it on at home, and I am pleased to say it skateboarded well. It has a slight Middle Aged touch to it – the dress, not the skateboard – but it turns out Middle Aged dressed folk make for cool skateboarders. According to me.

photo 2-5

On a side note, I am obsessed with frozen peas. It’s the only non-organic vegetable I eat but I literally am eating by the bowl full. Dash of seasoning, dash of vinegar and a massive spoon full dash of BUTTER. Today I had them for breakfast and now I’m having them for an afternoon snack. Yesterday I ate at least three bowls too. Could be worse. Could be sweetcorn.



2 thoughts on “Wardrobe, Schmoordrobe

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s