I prefer my clothes a little old, handmade, pre-loved and with a little history. But that's just me. We are talking about the girl who fell in love with Mr Darcy when she first read Pride and Prejudice. Will expand on that later.
Anyway. After wandering through Alannah Hill, where she finally seems to have realised that she (and her clientele) are too old for floral piled on more floral and has whole heartedly embraced the 1940s vibe, for which i salute her, and then over to Polo Ralph Lauren where i thought maybe if a men's blazer was on sale it would be... I'm sorry what? $900 DOLLARS ON SALE!
we left there quickly. A quick run round leona edminston, who i'm always glad to admit i have a soft spot for, considering that she designs not for size 0 but for the curvier. V pulled me into Paul and Joe, her favourite store. I have loved Paul and Joe for a very long time now, ever since i was about 13 and the Paul and Joe store at 5 ways near my house was closing down, and they reduced all stock to insanely small prices. I bought my first real dress for less than $200, and its a bargain that i will likely never repeat, or fit into again. Sadly i grew, but i still have the dress in my closet and i pull it out every now and then to feel the silk and sigh.
Anyway. I was enchanted by the beautiful clothes and the quality. The prices were, understandably, astronomical. Who can blame them, really? They have to make a profit somehow i suppose. And i got to thinking, wouldn't it be marvellous to have an endless credit card and the ability to purchase whatever ii wanted, whenever i wanted.
There is a cutout on my wall of balenciaga brooches a few season ago, they are little boys with swarovski crystals, and they wer eabout 200 euros. I thought to myself every night as i looked at them, they're not bad, i like them, i could afford them. 200 euros is not a lot of money, i could save up for that.
THen i suddenly listened to myself talking. I'm rationalising the purchase of one teensy tiny little brooche! Someone, somewhere (MK&A, peut-etre!) has the ability to buy 30 of those brooches and not have it mean anything to them.
That's the one thing i have over them, i suppose. I have an understanding of the money, the sweat and tears, the distress and work and saving up and the hours spent going into buying things. Like saving up for a paul and joe dress, like saving up for my first pair of louboutins, flats (I couldn't afford the heels) and the cheap, small things too, like the stacks of vogues in my room, or books, or liquid eyeliner.
I get it. V gets it. my friends get it. Money isn't everywhere, and it's not everlasting. Im happy that i don't have the ability to buy thousands miu miu skirts and christian lacroix couture, as much as i would have liked. Im happy that when i shop designer, i window shop, and i rarely leave with a shopping bag. Im happy that the happiness of fashion can be experienced by me with just the touch of one of Albert Elbaz' heavenly lanvin velvet dresses, or the soft leather in a 2.55 bag in Chanel.
I don't need to own it, not now, and not just because i can. If i ever get my own chanel bag it will be because i put money away every month from my pay cheques, sweated it out, ran to the store when i had enough money and then savour every judgemental glance of the salespersons and the quick once overs on my outfit. They make it all worthwhile.
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