…neither did I. Anyway. I’ve not posted for a while as I’ve been working like a trooper and have spent most of my spare time sleeping. So, what’s occurring?
I’ve recently been invited to a wedding and it’s all extremely exciting. The reception is a tea party (how very Downton, hooray!) and I cannot wait to attend. Of course, this meant I needed a new outfit and thus my brain cogs started a’turning. Yes, when I say “needed” a new outfit this is obviously a lie but what’s a girl to do?
So off to NewLook I toddle with mumma K in tow and I have a clear picture of my future wedding-guest-dress in my head. However, I saw nothing I liked. Nothing. Nada. I was saddened by this and it really put a downer on my evening of shopping. Never fear though, Dorothy Perkins was just next door. A beam of light shone down, angels sang, the pearly gates of heaven parted and I saw a pretty little number suitable for a tea party wedding. After a quick try-on sesh the dress was purchased along with a sparkly head piece. Enough shopping for one day.
But nay, shoes! SHOES! My feet seem to be a tricky body part to cater for. Inbetween a 6 and a 7 but sometimes a 5.5 (I don’t understand either), shoe shopping isn’t as enjoyable as it should be. Heels, yes, heels I thought. But do you know how many pairs of nude shoes are lurking on the high street? Too many, that’s the answer. And none that fit properly. Some scrunched my toes, others flopped off as I walked, it was all quite traumatic.
Alas, at least I have a dress. I shall not be turning up naked in a pair of nude heels but perhaps arriving in a dapper dress sporting the boho-hippy-barefoot look wishing the bride and groom peace and love as they become one to start a new chapter of life together with forest animals and magical elves, all whilst my hair flows and my twine anklet graces my bare foot.
Seriously, need to get some shoes.