To cheer myself up from finding out this sad news (let's be honest, it's every girls dream to meet him!) I did what every girl with a student loan does - shopping! Throw in a Nandos and a best friend, and it's pretty much a perfect day.
After stumbling around Regents Street like tourists in hunt for our Nandos (which was delicious of course, definitely worth the half hour walk), we took a trip to Topshop and then to the dreaded Selfridges. Now, don't get me wrong, i don't hate Selfridges, but i am definitely not a fan of the make-up and 'spritzer' girls. Now, you know the ones i mean girls, the girls that are primed to perfection – not a hair out of place, no chipped nail varnish, or smudged mascara. No, these girls are perfectly polished. Could you imagine them in tracksuit bottoms, no makeup on, and hair up? No, me neither.
('The Women' 2008)
As if it isn't bad enough by looking at my dream Mulberry Alexa knowing that i can't afford one.., but to then have overly made up girls look down on me? No thank you! When i walk past the counters (towards the high street section obviously), i can feel their eyes burning into me. I know what they're thinking, "Look at that girl in her Topshop clothes, and h&m bag - she doesn't belong here". I feel poor, and vulnerable, like they will pounce on me with their sweet smiles, and perfect manicured nails.
I once tried to escape these girls, by accidently heading up to the shoe floor... and I’m not quite sure what was worse. The shoe floor is a paradise for women – Jimmy Choos, Christian Louboutins, Alexander McQueen, Burberry, Chloe, oh the list is endless!
I was stuck with awkwardly lusting over these shoes, wishing I could afford just one pair – the agony! It was then I had one fo the saleswomen tottering over in her Marni heels and Hermes scarf, asking me sweetly if i would “like to try any on?”. She must have spotted me from afar, and was waiting for the perfect time to pounce - when i was unashamedly drooling over the perfect pair of shoes I had ever seen in my life. (If you was interested, they were a pair of Alexander McQueen shoe boots, sigh). There was no-where for me to hide or pretend that I didn’t hear her... Shamefully i had to decline her offer, and walk (more like nearly jogging) off red-faced and no better off.
I end up diverting the make-up and perfume counters and walking out, defeated by the spritzer girls... but one day i shall return, my Mulberry Alexa on my arm, my sky high Louboutins, and a black American Express card... and then we shall see who will be the ones laughing won't we Hmph!