Sunday, 30 August 2009

School Shoes

School starts in 4 days. Do you know what that means? Normally that I'm about to be the proud owner of a pair of hideous shits. Or school shoes, just in case my clever metaphor was too subtle.
Not this time, however. For the first time in history, mine are actually quite ok. In fact, I seem to have ended up with two pairs.

The brogues are from Topshop and the other ones are from Schuh.
We started off at Schuh, then went to John Lewis, Next, even Barrats, and back to Schuh, where I eventually got them. My mother had previously turned them down on the grounds that they weren't practical (or too flat, or something), but by this time she was weakened and exhausted, so it was easier to persuade her. (I'm not a complete psycho/sociopath.)
I found comments such as 'The ones in here are very ugly as opposed to completely hideous, I spose' to be quite handy when used with impeccable timing. Because if I didn't deploy my wonderful rhetoric skillage, I would have ended up with vile, chunky, fussy shoes.Shoes for pampered children with over protective parents. Shoes with STABILIZERS. STRAIGHT JACKET shoes. You get the message. But i want to have hardcore shoes. Shoes that shout, 'I'm damaging my feet and am too poor to afford sturdy shoes, but I'm way too hardcore to care.'
SO ANYWAY. When we got home, my mum started to regret her decision. I could see where she was coming from. I mean, these shoes weren't disgusting. She hadn't done her job properly. So she offered to get me a second pair, a slightly more practical pair. For the days when I'd have to do a lot of walking. I pointed out to her that I would never wear these 'practical shoes' if I had the option of wearing some nice shoes. But of course, maybe I could find a shoe that had both qualities... Practicality and style. I hesitated - was I aiming too high? Was I just setting myself up for my dreams to be shattered?

But in the end I got some pretty damn cool brogues.

Saturday, 29 August 2009

I finally succombed.

Yesterday I bought a dress from Hollister (or is it a top?). This is extremely unlike me.
It's not exactly mankind's boldest creation, this dress. It screams 'I'm preppy and can afford Hollister' (which I can't, really). After years of not allowing myself to become yet another follower of what is surely just a small seagull, I've finally blown it.

To tell the truth, those years may have been filled with wistful gazings at pretend shopping bags I created on abercrombie and fitch and jack wills - but every time, I pressed the small red cross at the top right of the screen. Because I was too good for them. By not pressing 'buy' I was maintaining the small ounce of individuality I had.
I'm not saying that the stuff is boring. It's just that it's too easy to be labelled well dressed or fashionable if you shop at a lable like Hollister. It's almost cheating: throw on a polo and wave the logo in everyone's face, and there you have it. Where's the challenge? I just don't like it (please note: my dislike is not in any way fuelled by resentment or jealousy).
It's not as if the dress was easy to obtain. This shop is pitch black. I have to squint to see the actual clothes, let alone the prices. Apparently it's their 'theme.' Pffft. Then there was the nauseatingly long queue. No, I literally went through hell for this dress that a billion people already have.
But why? Why did I buy this dress if I'm so opposed to the whole idea of brands like Hollister?
I didn't. My mum got it for me. We went in out of curiousity, she offered to get me something; and for god's sake, why would I say no? I love getting new things.
There we go. My beliefs and philosophies were totally trampled by my greed.
On the subject of Topshop, a sweater arrived today from there. It has SHOULDER PADS. Should be interesting. Oh yeah, I shop in Topshop. Surely that's not in the same category as Hollister. Is it...? ..Nah.