Birds of a Feather

Last weekend I was in town on the hunt for bargains.  (Where have you been, Hamer? The January sales started on Boxing Day!  There's nothing left!)  I strolled into French Connection, and amongst the £100-reduced-from-£300 embellished party dresses (seriously gorgeous, but as IF) I spied a rack of little khaki shirt-dresses.  The waist ties were all tangled up around the bottom halves of the dresses and they looked a little bit twisted and deformed, but the print was so immensely pretty that I had to have a closer look.

The dresses were £25 (originally £65), which doesn't happen very often in French Connection, and the popular sizes were all still there.  Why on earth hadn't these beautiful dresses been snapped up weeks ago?!  I nabbed a 12, not believing my luck, and took it into the changing room to try on.

You can guess what happened next, can't you?

"Hang on, why has this dress got a gusset?"

It was a bloody playsuit!

So I put it on and took a photo on my phone and texted it to my very fashionable friend Natasha, saying "HELP PLAYSUIT WHAT DO I DO?!?!" and Natasha said "BUY IT!" and I said "BUT PLAYSUIT ARGH!" and Natasha said "BUY ITTTTT!!" so I bought it and took it home and shoved it into my wardrobe and hung my head in shame.

Except, actually, I sort of love it.

In the summertime I'm going to brazenly wear it with Lolita heart sunglasses, green wedgey sandals, the waist belt tied in my hair as a bow, and slender, bronzed legs. (Anyone know where I can buy a pair of those?!)  In the meantime:

Please overlook the fact that my cardigan has got caught up on one side and isn't hanging down evenly like it should be.  Also my tights are navy not black.

Needless to say, going to the loo has been a pain in the arse today!

If playsuits are good enough for Aunt Petunia, I suppose they're good enough for me...!