Behold my favourite skirt:
Saw it in Oasis (of course), all £35 of it, hanging right next to the sale rail in order to tempt thrifty shoppers like me away from their bargains. Tried it on, adored it, flippantly said to Alexa that it wasn't practical, wasn't flattering, wouldn't go with anything, and I'd wait for it to come into the sale. Found it in the sale about a month ago, fifteen quid, MINE. Took it on lots of adventures, delighted in its silly ruffles, general bliss all round.
UNTIL.
Washed it today. Hadn't got around to washing it before. (Yes, after owning it for a month. Don't judge me.) Didn't bother to heed the warning on the label to wash by itself before first wear in case of colour bleedgae. Oh, well, never mind, those green pyjamas look better indigo anyway. Colour bleedage isn't the problem here. Hung pretty clean skirt out to dry on washing line, due to unseasonable sunshine (In September?! In Newcastle?!) Took pretty skirt in when dry. THE BLOODY THING REQUIRES IRONING! I don't iron. I certainly don't iron denim. But EVERY SINGLE RUFFLE HAS TO BE IRONED SEPARATELY! Ghkdnfniushfwoe;hfw!! I ironed the stupid arsing thing and it took ages.
Stupid ruffles.
Here's a picture of today's ensemble.
Yes, that's ANOTHER Oasis denim skirt, shame shame shame |
Ha! Not a single movie star in this piece of toast! Instead, here's my great-aunt Margaret sharing my passion for stupid, impractical ruffled skirts:
You have the same hair as your great aunt Margaret!
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