Last Saturday morning I was rudely roused from my sleep at 4:30am by Mrs Bremner’s alarm. My recollection of this is limited. Sources say that I was gently touched on the arm and given comforting words such as “Time to get up” in hushed tones to which I *allegedly* groggily replied “Fuck this shit” but none of this can be verified.
I am of course referring to the only reason to get up at 4:30am, apart from an early flight and breastfeeding, which is the Next Sale. What sort of hideous capitalist cult tests the dedication of its followers by insisting on a dawn start. Like brainwashed zombies, we dressed, applied make up and sharpened our elbows before driving down empty streets to the retail park. Next’s window lighting streamed out on to a car park full of other disciples already entering the store. We were late.
I should say at this point that I was popping my Next Sale cherry which may explain the incredulity that is woven throughout this post. Upon entering the store we were handed a huge clear plastic bag. I clasped it with a bemused expression, an expression that deepened as Mrs Bremner declared emphatically that she would need a second.
Leading up to this event I had been more and more ruthlessly clearing out my wardrobe and yet I had not replenished a single item. This has led to a deeper and deeper depression when picking out an outfit of a morning and a more frenzied washing and ironing routine so that I don’t run out of… well… clothes. A shop was desperately required.
On the way to the store, Mrs Bremner talked me through The Rules:
- You do not talk about the Next Sale – no, hang on. You DO talk about the Next Sale, especially to those with not enough stamina to have attended at dawn. In fact ‘brag’ might be a more fitting term.
- You do not waste time trying things on – if you’re not sure which size you are, pick up both, hell pick up the entire size range, you can return it later.
- Shoot first, think later – and by ‘shoot’ I mean grab from rail, and by ‘think’ I mean over analyse whether the shape/colour/style is right for you. Just try it on at home.
- Leave no department untouched – rummage, and rummage well my friend.
- No coat required – this was perplexing. I mean it’s 4:30 in the morning, my entire blood supply is still located on the rear half of my body and you’re telling me not to bring a coat?! She was right. El scorchio. Had I been carrying my full length wool coat over my arm alongwith the 263 sale items I had amassed, I may have actually collapsed upon which I would have been set about by other shoppers like locusts who would have quickly stripped me of my loot.
Mrs Bremner strode into the distance in the direction of the children’s section leaving me alone with only The Rules and my plastic bag for company. I briefly observed the behaviour of other devotees to check the required etiquette for the situation and came to the conclusion that there was none. I employed Rule 3 and set off.
“I need dresses, jeans, tops… Oooooh a horse riding type jacket that everyone has! I can’t mount the bandwagon unless I am suitably dressed. I’ll take it! Okay okay, dresses, jeans, tops… Oooh a poncho! With CHEVRONS! It is pretty much autumn in Scotland right now. I’ll take it! Right… dresses, jeans, tops.”
Allow me to furnish you with some photos of my very responsible sartorial purchases, and, lets be clear, this post is pretty much just an excuse for a selfie fest, cos everyone knows that blogging ain’t about the writing. It’s about the photos and looking as far removed from your day to day self as possible… oh, just me?
There was a bunch of other stuff but I got too hot and weird to continue with the photos: A wrap dress and a gorgeous French navy pencil dress which is aleady in the wash that kind of deserves its own post to be honest.
Errrrything was half price or less. I spent a total of £172 for £354 worth of clothes.
This is only part one, come back tomorrow where you can check out Mrs Bremner’s haul which includes the far more inclusive topics of childrens clothes and mens clothes. I mean, I say tomorrow but in reality it might be next week, depends how much effort I want to put in to avoiding the housework.