I don't feel bad saying this because I'm sure I'm not alone - when a package comes from my (hot) mailman I get so excited I could power a small country town. It's something about the little child in me that still gets excited on christmas day, that still loves the thrill of opening presents and seeing what's inside. And even though i usually know what's coming, unless some lovely person has sent me a present, it's still incredibly exhilarating to rip open that plastic packaging and reveal what lovely prize is within, be it topshop clothing, amazon.com books, vintage jewelry scammed off ebay or a present from a friend halfway around the world.
As you can tell my christopher kane for topshop package arrived yesterday, and after having worked my a** off all day, arriving home in an exhausted stupor i went into my room and found it on my bed. I screamed out loud and started jumping up and down maniacly. Mum was laughing as i ripped open the paper to pull out my studded sweatshirt in all its glory. I love the way that they feel all new and untouched. I even love that slightly plastic-y warehouse smell that topshop clothes have when they first arrive. But then, i did work in a warehouse packaging things for 5 months, so i do get a little attached to the smell that way. I've paired it with my beloved checked skirt and stripy crop top (from topshop, incidentally) and know this will go from day to night as i meet friends for drinks later this evening, although i'm going to add some heels. I'm mulling over a shoe purchase even though i'm supposed to be saving money. lace up wedge heels? i think yes... but my head says no, save save save. hmph.
Why is it that things sent by the mail carry so much excitement with them? I'm not convinced that it's just the fact that it's something you bought on the internet and you want to get it. I think it's that old-school romance of snail mail. Of post offices, of sheets of stamps, of hot mailmen in their tight shorts delivering packages from a white minivan *sigh*. Of having something delivered to your door. It seems like such luxury, even though, you know, you paid for every cent of it. But oh, doesn't it seem just marvelous to have everything you buy brought right to you, as if you were some fabulous duchess having bellboys carry your hat boxes behind you as you walk? I definitely like that part of it, even if you DID pay for shipping yourself. It doesn't seem that way, not when the hot mailman comes with the package and says something cute like, 'it's a heavy one today.' (and it was, those studs and mirrors aren't light!).
Feeling like a queen even when i'm looking like a blingin' gangsta.
X
As you can tell my christopher kane for topshop package arrived yesterday, and after having worked my a** off all day, arriving home in an exhausted stupor i went into my room and found it on my bed. I screamed out loud and started jumping up and down maniacly. Mum was laughing as i ripped open the paper to pull out my studded sweatshirt in all its glory. I love the way that they feel all new and untouched. I even love that slightly plastic-y warehouse smell that topshop clothes have when they first arrive. But then, i did work in a warehouse packaging things for 5 months, so i do get a little attached to the smell that way. I've paired it with my beloved checked skirt and stripy crop top (from topshop, incidentally) and know this will go from day to night as i meet friends for drinks later this evening, although i'm going to add some heels. I'm mulling over a shoe purchase even though i'm supposed to be saving money. lace up wedge heels? i think yes... but my head says no, save save save. hmph.
Why is it that things sent by the mail carry so much excitement with them? I'm not convinced that it's just the fact that it's something you bought on the internet and you want to get it. I think it's that old-school romance of snail mail. Of post offices, of sheets of stamps, of hot mailmen in their tight shorts delivering packages from a white minivan *sigh*. Of having something delivered to your door. It seems like such luxury, even though, you know, you paid for every cent of it. But oh, doesn't it seem just marvelous to have everything you buy brought right to you, as if you were some fabulous duchess having bellboys carry your hat boxes behind you as you walk? I definitely like that part of it, even if you DID pay for shipping yourself. It doesn't seem that way, not when the hot mailman comes with the package and says something cute like, 'it's a heavy one today.' (and it was, those studs and mirrors aren't light!).
Feeling like a queen even when i'm looking like a blingin' gangsta.
X
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