173: Good As Hell
I bought a dress yesterday.
I do 99% of my clothes shopping online.
This dress, I bought in an actual real life shop. I wasn’t expecting to buy anything, and I only went in because Mini B insisted on looking around every “pretty” shop.
It was on the first rail as I walked in and it was in the sale. I pulled it out to look at it. Loved the cut and the fabric. Saw the price and delicately folded it back into line.
I wandered around the shop for a good fifteen minutes with Mini B looking at everything - even toying with the idea of buying some silly sunglasses or earrings that I quite liked. But I then went and wandered over to the dress again. I realised I hadn’t clocked what size it was. Alas, it wasn’t my size. I had a slight disappointment and yet relief. But then I found myself asking the sales assistant if what was out was all they had? Yes but those dresses come up small... if that helps.
Nope no that doesn’t help, that just makes me want to try it on now.
So I did. But as a rule, this is why I do most of my shopping online: I hate trying clothes on in shops. I hate the muddle of having to get undressed, I hate the faff of having to pile your clothes up on a chair or something, and I hate getting basically naked in a random square of a shop. But I did.
And it fit. A little big but it fit. God damn I was gonna make it fit.
Mini B was all “oh mummy you really like it don’t you, it’s nice, you can buy it if you want but don’t use my pocket money...” I did not use her pocket money.
I went back into the changing square (!) took a hurried photo and scrambled to text my bestie who has a penchant for what this dress exactly was: ethically and sustainably sourced, one off fabric, independent designer and independent shop... and a spontaneous luxury purchase. The latter really is the reason I text her. Her text back twenty minutes later: “I mean, I’m the worst person to text.. I’ll tell you to buy it.” Exactly why I text her. Twenty minutes later though was too late anyhow... I’d already bought it.
I would never normally go clothes shopping. I would never normally buy a dress that cost more than a few quid off ASOS. But this dress just caught me on the right day: I was at ease, it was unexpected, I was feeling all light and airy... and for the first time in a long time, I really wanted something just for me.
I don’t care what anyone says: retail therapy is a real thing. And I don’t mean a chocolate bar or a gin, I mean a proper stand out luxurious item that really somehow gets your endorphins going. And this purchase did that because suddenly, simply touching the fabric of that dress sends me back to the inane chit chat I heard Mini B sprouting to the poor sales assistant whilst I was getting changed, and the silly way she skipped out the shop singing Lizzo’s Good As Hell.
Don’t get me wrong, nothing can replace real life therapy of which I am familiar with thanks to lung shit, car crashes, just life in general... nothing beats talking it out and understanding why we are processing the shit the way we are. But sometimes - just sometimes - genuinely treating yourself really does fucking help.
I tried it on again when I got back to our hotel and sent a fresh photo to my mate. Her response: oh my god look how happy you are.
Be good and bake well,