I spent an excessive sum today. Sum of the obvious, that is; my money c.f. energy, goodwill, time etc. I had my hair cut and coloured and then I bought a dress.
Question: What's worse than buying an expensive dress?
Answer: Buying an expensive dress that requires alteration before you can even wear it.
I never said I was smart. It was an impulsive purchase - I promised myself I would wear it to at least three weddings this summer - everything I'd tried to that point made me look like a heifer and the dress was flattering. Flattering, aside from the places it didn't fit, of course. The sales woman was nice (the colour- it suits you!) and didn't immediately force me into the largest size available. Ergo, I bought.
Following this impulse spend, there will be some regret spending to follow. Like $50 on alterations to hide some of the excessive cleavage the dress reveals. More on a pair of shoes and accessories to match. (I bought some of these earlier in the season and have dramatically failed to match any actual outfits to them. They continue to languish in my closet.) It's sitting in my bedroom, hiding from me. But I'm still thinking about it. With shivery regret pangs.
POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL. Poor little DINK (double income, no kids - gross). My journal mofos, think what you will and I will continue writing about the excesses of my privileged lifestyle. Fuck me, I truly hope you realise that's at least partially tongue-in-cheek.
I am going to instagram the hell out of that dress once it's sized right.
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