Thursday, 8 September 2011

Just say NO

Out of the Bag calls it wardrobe equilibrium, I call it having WAY too much stuff.

Us academics...well I try to be one, it sounds more learned than plain old teacher, so yes, us academics generally see the year differently to most. My New Year is actually September, this is when I try to turn over some new leaves, maybe try and make a little time for some painting, or make the effort to make my biannual marking schedule a little more frequent.
Also it's the time when checking the bank balance that the cheap staycation suddenly is not so cheap, add to this heady mix new shoes for the kids, well kid,as the others are no longer school bound, but yes, all the shit they need, plus the pain of a new travel card and my poor bank balance is already weepingly overdrawn. So after a particularly profligate bout of retail therapy in COS and then a brutal wardobe shuffle, I wrote down the following notes.


The thing is you can't get a sense of scale or quality, and yes, I may have scored some occasional hits, I do wonder that without the hassle or filling in a return slip whether I would have even made tit o the till with most of my mail order purchases, so that has got to stop.


Yes, yes, yes I know I have bleated on and on about this before, but I have once again become increasingly disengaged from periodicals, I hauled a shed load to St Ives and barely looked at them, and as for my stupid weak willed attitude to Grazia, that HAS to stop too, it's not like I don't have enough books to read.


Notice the very subtle caveat there, so it's fine if it costs a lot.. well actually I've found if it does it's generally more versatile and looks worth the money, recent cheapies look just that, and 4 cheapies are not that cheap. So no more crapola.


And if I really, really have to, (+J) then it cannot be below the kneee. Two of my poorest choices this year were narrow skirts that sit on my calf, when I photographed them FRUMP is all I saw, no ironic post Mad Men look for me, no sireee.


I don't know why but I've always thought I liked this colour, but on reflection I've decided that blue is a better colour.


When you pick up a dress in blue because the only other two colours it comes in are puce and putrid obviously you will embrace the blue, but really, ask yourself this, if it came in black what colour would you choose? Yes, I thought so. So NO to blue. Unless it's soooo lovely and I just can't say no.


No, I thought not, is it black? do you have 10 already? Put it down.


Come ON really, is there not a combination you don't posses? Don't answer that as I could be a serial stripy purchaser, but now summer is over I must rein myself in. (I have a small series featuring stripes starting on Friday.)


OK 10 plus which may not seem much but that is just the ones in the wardrobe, there are another 10 waiting in the wings.

So yes, I guess we have 'wardrobe equilibrium', but the minute I say "no" I crave, so in order to assuage that feeling I have decided to focus on the following:
They all work for me, those that fit may be thin on the ground but they are must have in my wardrobe.
On the rise, my love of these negates the stress of trying to co-ordinate a top, although at this time of year the layered look works best, especially with the odd hot flush, but jumpers are green lit.
They must not crease and they must look lovely, but scarves too get the green light
Can I do it until Christmas? A half term spent in Istanbul will help I hope, and there is little opportunity to gallivant up town, so watch this space!


Claire Cooper said...

Fully agree - I also make promises to myself that I will paint more, create more, and not buy so much, then I find myself in the charity shop, looking at a dress 4 sizes too bug, just because I like the colour! Will I ever get round to refashioning it. probably not - and I have at least 10 Items already awaiting refashion, not to mention the fabrics I bought back from China. I too am hoping to say no to the retail therapy element of life - and save some cash - as the Children all need new school shoes - goodbye £120.

indigo16 said...

Oh, Claire, those bloody school shoes, £53 the pair I bought for Leyla, and scuffed to bits a week later. I think the desire to shop is totally inate, where does it come from? I wish I had done Anthropology sometimes!