I'm halfway through my pledge to Stop Buying More Shit! and yet it's only now I'm feeling the bite of the challenge.
My lounge is starting to look like a thrift store as I have pieces of clothing and accessories draped over chairs and tables, so as to help me figure out new combinations.
I'm pulling out all sorts of weird bits and bobs that have never been worn, or just admired from a distance.
Now I know this sounds weird and no, I don't need to change my meds, but I think the clothes are starting to talk to me.
OK, OK, don't run off, but this is the conversation I'm sure I had last night with a black leather 80s dress I bought off Etsy but have never worn.
Me: I think you're gorgeous an' all, but you're kind of scary in a Dynasty kind of way.
Dynasty Dress: Don't worry darling, you're clearly just way to scatty for this level of glamour.
Me: Oh. OK. I just thought that maybe I could jazz you up a bit with a scarf or maybe *sotto voce* some layering?
DD: WHAT? Layering? You want to cover me up? Now I realise the irony of this statement darling, given that I'm crafted from soft, buttery leather but, OVER MY DEAD BODY!
Me: Oh I'm sorry. You must feel very strongly about this. Maybe a scarf for some colour? Just a little one.
DD: No way. Earrings and heels. Or you're a dead woman.
Fifteen days to go ...