So, I'm sitting here in a vintage Joseph denim skirt and Abbots pink pinstripe shirt (try saying that after a couple bottles of wine) that I found in a charity shop on Kilburn High Road, feeling utterly fulfilled. It came to 11 British pounds. Eleven. JOSEPH!!!. Mint condition. It's a pencil skirt and I'm wondering whether the person who bought it over-estimated (or perhaps more accurately) under-estimated how much room a real woman needs for her thighs, because it hasn't been worn. And I'll tell you why - walking is somewhat of a bonus in it but I feel this garment needs to be released from its peg purgatory. It's so narrow, it really only ought to be used for display purposes, however I intend to wear it out to see SATC 2 with 30 girlfriends at the Electric cinema in Portobello; man and child free zone - it doesn't get any better than this. (Who cares if I need a stair lift to get to the auditorium .)
Picture Stockard Channing in Grease with her itty bitty, narrow (as the extreme right) tapering skirt and you get an idea of the squeeze. Put it this way, I will need to leave 15 minutes earlier today to go pick up The Lish from daycare if I want to be on time. But it's oh so worth it. Look!! (took piccie with webcam to save time - so this is all you get.) The denim diet!! I've shaved 5lbs off in 30 seconds.
Anyway, you get the picture. Look at the shirt! It's linen you know. I love finding bargains like this. I also found a mini Boden skirt and Gap dress for the nipper in mint condition...for 4 quid! FOUR. My husband will be relieved and grateful - especially since I shop with 'our' money, though I have yet to make a significant deposit into the joint account. Good things come to those who wait I tell him.
Some people play golf - I trawl charity shops for gems. Same difference.
I'm going through a bit of a general overhaul having finally found my feet (left one to be precise) and have begun hitting the yoga mat with the rage of a cuckcold. I also discovered a community (a.k.a priced for the poor) Asthanga class at London's arguably most prestigious yoga studios: Triyoga. I learnt more in one class with a teacher trained by India's foremost Ashtanga master, Pattabi Jois than in 15 years of gymnasium yoga. Wow. What a difference a great teacher makes (no reflection on the amazing people at the Canadian studio where I studied).
Now I just have to hope my friend who is kindly designing some pamphlets and a logo for me, pulls his beer soaked finger out cos I feel a Yoga Open House coming on!!
(Vintage Joseph skirt will be surplus to requirements at this time).
No comments:
Post a Comment