... the tough cry and throw things and overdose on caffeine. Then they go shopping.
Acquisition: Jigsaw jacket, £8.
I wouldn't actually wear this ensemble in public. The dress is a deep blue lace mini from H&M, the most beautiful thing, but it is unfortunately an ex-dress, a dress pining for the fjords, as it were. A few heedless rounds in the washing machine (in this allegory, the washing machine stands in for the Wheel of Life) and lo and behold, we have reincarnation. I could still pretend it was a dress if I were the sort of person who approved of going around in public with my ass hanging out, or if I were the sort of person who approved of leggings, but since I am not either sort of person, I am going to have accept its new life as a top.
I suppose it will make a nice top. But it was such a nice dress. I am desolated.
What shall I wear the jacket with? I'm thinking interesting tights and a tiny dress. But perhaps something marginally less tiny than that H&M dress-turned-top. One must consider what one's mom would say ...