Oh no! I’m a girl! I forgot. I’m reminded of it around this time every year, because I decide I want to go dress shopping. Avoider of band-wagons though I try to be, when everyone else gets excited about LBDs and sparkly things, it’s just too much fun not to hop on.
I’ve just spent an hour on different sites which clearly state what’s hot, what’s not, and why I should have these things NOW. I’m more than happy to oblige and have filled a virtual basket. I may never actually purchase these things, but viewing the basket periodically throughout the day will make me feel wealthy and cool. It doesn’t take much.
For part of the shop, I had Gossip Girl on in the background. It’s a guilty pleasure and it has Manhattan in it, so that’s good. It also has tons of girls in tons of dresses. Inspiring or vomit-inducing? I’m always torn. What I’m clear on, though, is that while girlish and feminine are good qualities, girlie is just a bit shit. It seems to mean speaking in a squeaky voice and pretending that you’re more useless than you really are at everything. When did getting in a flap over your nails become acceptable? When I were a lass, ’twere cool to change lightbulbs, and pay your own way, and wear ripped jeans without irony (at some stage, you were going to have to pretend to be able to fix a bike, just to hold your own, so the outfit had to be believable). Now, the pinnacle of achievement seems to lie in the ability to get ready.
I like shoes. I may spend the afternoon virtual window-licking them (that’s what the French say, and it certainly captures the drool factor). But I won’t pepper my conversation with how exciting they are, or how many pairs I have because nobody cares. I like it that way. Don’t ever care about my footwear, right? It belittles us both.
Do care about this: I’ve worn out 3 pairs of trainers training for the marathon this year. You can still sponsor me here. Thank you.
