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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

Rooting through the back of your wardrobe and pulling out clothes long forgotten can be an adventure, and a great money saver if you're like me and have no concept of "seasons" and "changing fashions" or even just "fashion". I make the decisions on the clothes I wear on a daily basis mainly on what I remember I own. So, I end up wearing the same two pairs of jeans, or the same skirt, or the same pair of cords, over and over again until I rediscover something else and that gets added to the rotation.

I've been thinking this over today because I'm chained to the desk at work and don't dare to move. I bought a new pair of boots over the weekend. This isn't something I do lightly. Like many ladies of a certain budget, I visit shoes in shops on a regular basis before actually buying anything. I look around. I make comparisons. But mainly I try on the same pair over and over again until I can think of a good, solid justification for spending that amount on a pair of shoes. These boots I'd been visiting for about a week and a half, which really isn't very long in the grand scheme of things - I've been known to visit the same pair for actual months on end. I couldn't think of any justification for them because they're brown boots, and I need a pair of black boots. Brown boots don't go with as many things. Black boots go with all things. So these boots, with their pretty little flowers and understated heel bit at the back, remained visited but unbought.

Then myself and the mother went to the new Dundrum Shopping Centre, and I took her to visit my boots because a fifth opinion was just what the problem needed, and she pointed out that the beige/white version of the boots would go with black as well as brown as well as green as well as denim and they would be the best ones to get, since black and brown and green and denim are the colour of all my skirts. So those are the ones I got.

Today I debuted them to the world, pairing them with a black skirt I'd discovered at the bottom of my wardrobe and haven't worn since college days. I forgot that this isn't just a black skirt though: it's silver underlining with black lace on top. I also forgot that, when walking in said skirt for any amount of time, the lining tends through static electricity build up to cling to the back of the thighs and expose a teeny bit more flesh than expected or intended. Obviously, this remembrance came flooding back to me as my co-workers were in the starting phase of slagging me off for daring to (a) wear a skirt, (b) expose legs, (c) have new boots and (d) must obviously be out on hot, hot date this evening post working hours. I denied everything and managed to keep composure until noticing said static electricity trick skirt was playing with back of thigh and then all composure collapsed.

The boots are still great, though.

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