Having had a hectic Saturday, I haven’t really had much time to devote to clothes – other than ironing my husband’s shirts for next week – but I can’t really create a blog post out of that. Well I suppose I could, but not right now.
A few days ago I read a comment that had been left by someone who had read one of my earlier posts – and she liked it! Having taken a look at it again, I see that only about four people have read it. Given that three of them were probably in my family and the fourth was the lady who left the comment, I decided that I could probably re-cycle it without feeling too guilty – so here it is:
It doesn’t count until you decide to keep it …
No, seriously, it’s official. Incidentally, who first coined that phrase and what does it really mean? Who decides what is “official” and what isn’t? Bizarre. Anyway, enough of that. I have decided that it’s official that, until you decide to keep something (“something” being clothes of course) it doesn’t really count (in the bank department).
Unlike food, which can’t be returned and which therefore does count the minute that you’ve paid for it, it is possible to buy clothes with wild abandon and until you decide that they are yours, you haven’t really spent the money. That’s my philosophy anyway.
Take today as an example. Today I was good to my children and took them to a soft play area. We made sure that we left the house on time so that we were second in the car park – even though we had to go via the local newsagents so that the eldest of the two who were with me could nip in and buy the latest copy of Grazia for me. Poor boy, imagine being 8 and having to go into the newsagents to ask for the latest copy of the magazine his Mum wanted. I had to stress the importance of it being the latest copy as sometimes they are a week behind – tut tut.
Anyway, the soft play area was relatively civilised. I even managed to read the said magazine, with half an eye on the children and at the end of it, I decided to try and work out how some of the functions worked on my phone – particularly the “notes” section as I wanted to make a list.
When I tapped the icon I realised that one of the children had already worked out how to use it before I had. It transpired that our eldest, who was 10 at the time of the entry, had written “Buy Flo iPhone for Christmas”. Yeah right. Not only had she beaten me to it but she had beaten me to it by nearly 8 months.
Anyway, I finally worked out how to enter the heading for the list, which unsurprisingly read: “Shopping List A/W 2010”. Beneath it I made 8 entries.
Now, lists are made for one purpose and one purpose only, and that is for acting upon (unless they relate to jobs you have to do, particularly in the house) in which case the purpose of a list is to add to the bottom of it the things that you have already done, just so that you can cross them off and feel as though you have achieved something, even when you haven’t.
Finding myself with ten minutes or so to spare – oh yes, ten minutes – even after hanging out the washing and doing the lunch, I decided that I really did need to act upon the list or what was the purpose in making it?
And herein lies the crux of the matter. Those Whistles trousers that I ordered, those items from Next (more about those in another post!) and those several Boden items, some in two colours and two sizes – none of them count. I haven’t spent a bean. Not only have they not been delievered yet (although apparently the Boden ones are on their way – yippee) but even when they arrive, I still won’t have spent a penny and nor will I until I make that fateful decision that they are to be mine. When they enter my wardrobe, that’s when I have to hold my hands up. Until such time I had a very pleasant, guilt free, half hour (I know, I said ten minutes but that was a little exaggeration) shopping without the crowds, the travelling, the parking or the children fighting and I didn’t even spend a penny. Result.