Decent Days And Nights....

So, at long last, I have collared, shoved and wheedled a couple of my most beautiful and stylish friends into posing in their finery for this here blog. It did take some 'suading, notwithstanding the fact that they were told that looking at the camera wasn't essential. But it has been done, and the results are surely to follow. But not to get ahead of myself: I went out last night on a proper 'girlie' night out, the first in a long while, since Saturday evenings have now become the staple 'night in' for me and the boy, involving, in no particular order, a comfy couch, the X Factor (or maybe Strictly now? Conundrum!) and a supersized bag of Sainsbury's finest salt and cracked black pepper potato shapes. Good times.

But yes. Last night, the boy and I decided to break from normality and live a Saturday night in manner of most mid-twenty year old fun-lovers...getting drunk and going raving. Or something. Well, no, I decided to catch up with the girls, whilst the boy stayed in (to begin with) and him and a gaggle of his guy mates played Singstar and partook in other manly endeavours (namely: drinking, music and computers).

So off I went to my friend Kathryn's house, to get ready for some fun times with her and my other friend Laura. May I say, Kathryn's (huge) bedroom looked like it had leapt from the pages of Elle Decoration, and the amount of clothes and accessories adorning the rails and racks within were enough to give this shopping-starved retailist the fashion shakes. Needless to say, accessories were pillaged and items cooed over, all whilst listening to a bit of Blondie, a bit of Beyoncé, and a touch of the Shakira 'She Wolf' video. Awoooooo indeed.

I had (mistakenly) eaten pasta for my tea, which did wonders to prevent the bucket of wine I practically inhaled later from rendering me completely smashed, but lesser wonders for my outfit choice, being as it gave me the bloat and I had (maybe wrongly) decided to wear a croptop as part of my new 'slouchy tailoring' obsession. Oh well. So here, in the glory of Kath's boudoir (check the wallpaper!) is what I wore:

I cobbled a headband out of a skinny indie rocker style tie which I ironed in five minutes using a bottle of febreeze and my hair straighteners, I was running epically late after all. I think it kind of works, certainly it kept my hair out of my face but by the end of the night I did look a bit like a muffin top head. It's a risk I'm willing to take I think, because overall I thought it looked rather swell.

Feast your eyes, then, on my grey, cropped, shoulder padded tee, which cost me a mere £5 from Bay, and is rather begrudgingly shoved beneath a gold sequin shrug which was a Primark purchase about a million years ago and subsequently leaves a trail of sequins in my wake, wherever I go. Think of it as the haute couture version of a Hansel and Gretel story: No breadcrumbs here, oh no.

My belt is one I borrowed from Kath's fantastic supply, I had arrived chez Kath's avec 2 belts on, but this lent a little too much of Le Crazy to the outfit. So one nice spangly gold one sufficed as a pleasant replacement. My trousers are, naturally, the Primark harems which I have made hollow threats to disregard, we all know that this just won't ever happen, truly. My watch is a vintage gent's one which has now cost me more in running repair costs than it did to purchase in the first instance, but since I love it, I am prepared to fork out for these. Keeping within the vintage theme I also plumped for my vintage Dior clutch to go with this outfit, which, at this point in the evening, was tossed on top of a pile of other possible outfit dealbreakers for the evening ahead.

The footwear finale, then, curved front platform snakeskin patterened courts with stack heels from Dorothy Perkins. These cost me £3 in the sale about 4 years ago and have been re-heeled more times than I can count, hence, once again, their upkeep costs outweighing their initial purchase price. I love them, though, so I shall let that one go by.

In all I feel this was a successful outfit: Off I jollied into the realms of Party Central, with my mother's wise words ringing in my ears: If your midriff is exposed, you will feel the cold. Was she ever right. Here's one to consider ladies: The crop is a top best suited to warmer climes, so if wearing on an evening out in blighty, lets either layer under or over, avoid the midriff chill, and steer clear of carbs.
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