That’s right, straight from the pages of Vogue.
For some weeks now I’ve been getting a slating over the fact that my bed isn’t made and the room appears to be a tip…
OK, so I accept that the unmade bed is unacceptable and I am now making it (if only before I take the photos rather than prior to leaving for work at 6:30am).
But the rest of the bedroom? Well that is quite literally beyond my control. My side of the room is tidy, the floor is clear (the top of the chest of drawers is not…). My clothes are hung up or in the wash basket once worn, my shoes go back into boxes and then are precariously re-placed within the shoe tower.
ES’s side of the room falls under his own jurisdiction, I don’t touch it, or even look at it if I can help it. We are presently very pushed for space but this is a short term side effect of saving for our first house, and I’ll take the temporary pain of being ridiculed in exchange for the long term gain of having my own kitchen and ES having his own garage so that I never have to stub my toe on an exhaust ever again.
Besides, having an unkempt bedroom just became fashionable:
Smugness is radiating from my laptop right now, should you have not picked up on that. OK, so this is a far more stylish mess than our collection of car parts, wires, DVDs and boiler suits but you can’t have everything.
This brings me neatly, har-har, to my next point… What’s the deal with Couture Houses making adverts that actively repulse me? Surely it can’t just be down to the fact that I am not well-off enough/cultured enough? I can say, unequivocally, that having a couple of hundred thousand in the bank would not make me want to wear the couture equivalent of a bath mat:
And what’s the deal with those shoes? They look like something I would have begged my mother to buy me for school from Barrett’s when I was 14 (we’re talking mid-nineties). Clumpy,clumpy horribleness:
Some adverts influence me. Just because I shop in charity shops doesn’t mean that I can’t take inspiration from those glossy pages for a bit of purse-friendly plagiarism.
The likes of Ralph Lauren:
Dolce and Gabbana:
Seriously? Who wants to look like an unkempt lesbian in an ill-fitting, man’s suit? Those ‘sandals’… WHY!? My eyes! It burns!!! It burns more than the bingo tights!!
Maybe there’s just something I’m not getting; the cool nonchalance of dressing outwith the confines of traditional femininity? Not being intent on attracting the gaze of a man? However, it’s just not for me, or in my more traditional vernacular, “Fuck that!”.
Perhaps it’s something to do with brands that begin with the letter C… who knows. All I know is that the adverts of some brands encourage me to kill people with their own arms in order to buy them, and others I find repugnant, despite how much I lust after the brand in general (Chanel).