Those Who Wait...

I find all this credit crunch hard to distinguish from my own personal credit crunch. Having not actually worked a day in the last - wow - nearly 6 months, I have an obvious self imposed spending restriction. But I find myself buying less and less, and I am suspicious that much of that might have to do with listening to too much Radio 4.

But sometimes a crunch brings joy. Witness yesterday and the much hyped Marks and Spencer sale (or 'spectacular' as they termed it). They were offering 20% off throughout the store. The place was heaving. But my Mum and I thought we might as well have a look...god, it works, it really works. The place was crazy. I love that certain group of British women, and I say group because it's nothing to do with class, who can't resist a bloody good shop under the excuse of a bargain.

Anyway, I spied a certain fluffy, totally impractical coat / jacket that I had admired a couple of weeks ago. I had passed up the opportunity to buy it then because although it was gorgeous, it cost £89, and I am crunching. But lo! There it was (I was expecting it to have sold out) and with 20% off that made it...cheaper. I'm not here to do the math. So imagine my surprise when I pay for it and they give me 40% off instead, because of an extra promotion. A great fluffy ball of a coat for fifty something quid. Sold. Thanks M&S. I am almost ashamed to say I physically skipped out of the store, but sometimes the acquiring of stuff does that to a girl.

When hair changes everything

Whilst on holiday in the States, I dyed my hair blonde. It was a whim kind of thing, part "Let's do this for Halloween", and part, "I want to be a blonde just once in my life and might as well do it now".

But I couldn't have envisaged just how much it would prevent me from wearing the clothes in my wardrobe. My all black goth ensembles look kinda odd. My rails of Zara dresses (seriously, how damn good is Zara at churning out great dresses at £30 - £80 a pop) with slightly dyke-y blonde choppy locks look like someone's popped a different head on a normal outfit, and floral tea dresses (once a staple) look nuts. The only thing that balances it all out are jeans and American Apparel tops. Which is easy, but not exactly fun, and makes me look like I've nicked the Chanel handbag I'm carrying and nothing like it's real owner.

Do I stick with the dresses down look, or change the hair. Hmmm

The Back is Back

I have a bad back. Bad enough for it to stop me sleeping, and even painful enough to go in search of a massage to relieve the pain. It worked for about 30 mins, but it hurts once again. I am now dreading my flight to New York. Planes are uncomfortable enough when you are feeling 100%, when you're not they can be total hell.

Dread is an unusual thing to feel with regards to flying, because usually I love it. I'm one of those people that actually likes airports. I like to wander around them. Watch people embarking on one of their saved for family trips, resented work travel, or emotional reunions. I also enjoy the limbo like quality. People can't phone me, I can't really be asked to do much, and there's no pressure to be a 'good person'. You can hardly exercise or eat well, so it's a welcome relief to just pootle round shops, read Vanity Fair and drink rank airplane wine with lunch at 11.00am.

And one day, one day, I will get an upgrade. ARE YOU LISTENING BRITISH AIRWAYS? No, thought not.

Vampire OCD

Having watched the first few episodes of HBO's new drama, True Blood, I am now a fangbanger too. In that I'm a fan. I don't actually think vampires do exist, so I can't really be a bona fide groupie. Yet. As it's not yet out in the U.K. a brief explanation is needed. 1) It's an Alan Ball of Six Feet Under fame project, 2) It's based on a series of books that are way better than Twilight, and 3) It's great.

Unlike other Vampire related series on TV or the printed page there is none of this no sex rule. So, consequently, True Blood, and the books themselves written by Charlaine Harris are very sexy. Having read the first Sookie Stackhouse mystery and passed it on to my Mum, who loved it too, I have ordered to next 5 in the series. Being a bit of a Vampire aficionado I personally think that both the TV series and the first book are great. It's not that I don't love Buffy - I do, I do, I do, it's just that True Blood is set in the grown up world. Not high school. Being 30 I now feel quite uncomfortable getting my kicks from Vampires as analogy for teenage hormonal quandaries. Plus Bill is fit. Angel always looked like a bit of a meat head.

Reaching Critical Stuffness

It has come to the time where I have realised that whilst I have the capacity to acquire more, my one bedroomed flat no longer agrees with me. Every conceivable surface is taken up. My clothes don't fit in my wardrobe or rails, shoe boxes lie everywhere and books are piled high despite with 16 x 16 foot of book cases that is chock a block with them.

Listening to a programme about compulsive hoarders I snorted, thinking at least I'm not exactly collecting my fecal matter in ice cream boxes...but they mentioned one woman who doesn't throw away water bottles. A quick glance down by my bedside revealed about 15 different bottles - from Dubai, India, funny ones that say "Women's Water" that I bought in a health food store in Australia and hulked back with me. You see if I get a nice water bottle - no not a Nalgene or a Sigg, just a plastic bottle, I keep it. It's nice. I get upset at the thought of throwing it away. I think I have a problem.

But, this isn't about giving stuff away, crushing your possessions or not buying things for a year. This is my celebration of stuff, and my never ending desire for more - more clothes, more TV, more magazines, more books that teach me useless facts to triumph at pub quiz, more countries to visit (29 and counting).

What will I do? The solution no doubt awaits in a storage special of Elle Decoration.

Going to Australia

I am going to Melbourne on Monday, and it is causing me some wardrobe headaches. For me this is holiday time, and I like to wear nice clothes when I go away. But for all my daydreaming about looking stylish and stumbling on some hidden gem of a bar where I meet totally cool people, I find myself being practical and balancing my need for fab clothes with the fact that sightseeing means you have to walk everywhere and go from museum to restaurant, shop to shop all day. It's the old I think I'm Carrie, but I'm actually Miranda situation.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I had a brainwave. As it is winter in Oz I could stock up on wet look leggings from American Apparel - edgy and comfy. By day I shall wear them with boots or flat pumps, and by night with my new Louboutins or my favourite Zara grey peep toe brogues that are super high but amazingly easy to walk in and are so on the money it hurts. When Zara are good they are amazing. I have invested in pink, black cracked and silver. It might be too much for my brother, in which case my fail safe are Uniqlo jeans - £20 a pop when bought in the 2 for £40 deal which they run every couple of months, and so great I have stopped buying designer denim. What is the point when the cheap stuff is a better cut, wash and fit?

The Last Week Of Work

Well, what with the knowledge that employment is coming to an end, I have been trying to spend less. On the whole this has worked well, until that is I decided to visit the shoe department of Selfridges. In my head I was telling myself all I wanted to do was see the YSL Tribute platforms in the flesh, but my head and my heart are rarely at one when it comes to shoes.

I came, I saw the Tributes (can't say they did it for me) and then I saw the Louboutins...and I was doing okay, but then I did something stupid - yes, I slipped one on, that that was that. £400 quid poorer in seconds. They are white, so I will ruin them in seconds, they are strappy and high, so I will never walk in them anywhere, but they make me into some glam starlet in my mind. And so far I have worn them in my bedroom, too scared even to take a step in them in case I mess up the glossy red soles.