Well no, not really, that's not quite how I roll. But I was a little late for work, thanks to a wardrobe crises.
Haven't had one of those in ages. You know, when you stand in front of your cupboard in your bra and undies, freezing because it's 13 degrees outside, but can't see a single thing you feel like wearing. And then you try on a whole bunch of outfits but everything seems wrong or unflattering or just plain ugly, and then you're back to the staring contest, wearing one boot and an earring, surrounded by clothes in heaps on the floor, only this time you should have left the house ten minutes ago already and you seriously, seriously wonder if you'd get fired for arriving at the office in your Sheepy Time pyjamas.
Hate those mornings. Could have something to do with the fact that the sight of my wardrobe causes Imogen Heap to spontaneously break into song in my head: 'And all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways / I don't like it...'
I feel like going home this afternoon and donating all of my clothes to charity and buying an entire new wardrobe. Of course, as it stands, I can hardly afford to keep myself in moisturiser at the moment for some reason, let alone go and clear out Country Road and Jo Borkett.
What's a girl to do?
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