Thursday, 23 September 2010
Husband gave me his credit card to buy a present for friend's birthday.
So I went to Mecca - I mean, Harrods - with a whole bag of wardrobe wonders in mind. For myself, obviously.
I actually needed a pair of shoes to go with the dress I plan on wearing.
But as I stepped through the door, by Smythson (made mental note for new diary), I felt an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling stir.
It continued to grow as I walked up to the Louboutin lair and past the Jimmy Choo jungle.
Dismissing my lack of enthusiasm as sugar withdrawal (from new diet), I knew the sight of YSL Palais pumps would bring me back to life. It didn't.
I bought them anyway, to prove a point of course, but my heart wasn't in it. I had no urge to pur-chase. None whatsoever. Not even with someone else's money, which is so unlike me.
I visited all my favourite sections, determined to fight the feeling, but not even the prospect of a new diary perked me up.
To top it off, the shoes don't match the dress. I am now on a timed mission to find a suitable pair before tomorrow.
And so disorientated was I by this fashion flu that has so aggressively struck, I forgot to buy the present.
Will have to summon the energy to go back again tonight.
P.S Look at this adorable Chanel cabinet display I spied on the way out. Life in plastic really is fantastic.
Posted by Maysa Rawi at 02:00