Satire's Wearing: Burgundy Blues.

Oxymoronic title to this post? I reckon so. I'll elaborate. Found this bad boy of a dress in Whistles the other day. Reduced from £165 to £50. And for Whistles this is surely a very big deal. They had pure fat sizes left and my size so I assumed fate was hanging around by the changing rooms waiting for me to try it on. So I give him (Fate that is....) a hug and an air kiss and I did.

Dress, £50, Whistles; Shoes, £20, River Island.

I had to take a goofy moronic changing room picture of myself because I couldn't show my friend what I looked like in it like a normal person because the scary foreign shop assistant seemed like a strict school teacher. So apologies. She might have a cane hidden behind one of the cubicles. Nobody really knew and I didn't want to find out. SO I tried it on and even though it is not the most interesting or prettiest of dresses I found it to be a heritage piece. I just wrote a post on a pair of jeans being safe and so is a dress like this. One block colour, good quality stitching and material, flows nicely, team with with most shoes/jackets. Not exactly eye popping or quirky but it is a heritage piece for this reason. And I like looking like a grannie, it keeps me warm at the end of the day I suppose. So taking my little treasure to the till I bent to check my shoe laces and good job I did because at the bottom of the dress was a tear. A TEAR. (not the water kind in which one cries with over lunch and coffee, a tear in the sense of a rip i.e ripping/tearing apart ones soul because people are stupid and have big feet and rip the dresses you like and want to buy.)

ESSENTIALLY THEN THAT WAS THAT. How I'm going to get on with my life now I'll never know. Just seems so bleak and dark. Hopefully though a good cup of tea will help me get over the post dramatic stress. And the blues that burgundy could have been mine for the taking.