Haven’t you always wondered what the best colour for undies are? Sarah Wilson explains all.
The article put some things into perspective for me – like how I need to stop crossing my legs and arms, and maybe then I’ll stop being so bloody indecisive about things. Especially yummy sartorial-type things that I absolutely don’t need (or do I?). Perhaps I’ll have to uncross all these crossable appendages of mine and then the focus and clarity can come.. except.. what will I do with them? That part seems all fiddly and bothersome now that I’ve been made aware of it. I mean, it’s nice that Sarah is pointing out all these negative things in her life (crossing your legs and/or arms apparently means you’re at a constant crossroads in life) but now she’s gone and opened up a whole ‘nuther dilemma that I really wish she’d solved in the same breath. Meh.
Anyhoo. Just received a package from PopLook in the mail mere hours ago and eagerly tore into it, digging around for the long-awaited romper that I’ve been obsessed with for WEEKS.
It was one of those pieces I suddenly felt as if I truly needed the minute I laid eyes on it, because it ticked all the right boxes and filled a missing link in my wardrobe – one that I was eager to bridge as soon as possible. It spoke seductively to me through the screen, whispering its evil siren call: “Buy me. You don’t have a romper in your closet, don’t you think I’ll be a great little starter? You’ll love me and wear me forever and ever and ever, just you wait and see.. Just buy me, buy meee!”
And there I was, stupidly falling for it, imagining myself wearing the romper everywhere and back again, and began creating oodles of justifications for something I knew I never bought in the past for a very good reason.
Of course, I ignored that little voice that kept chirruping, “It’s a one-piece. Don’t you even KNOW what that MEANS? It’s not practical! DON’T YOU DARE CLICK BUY!” because it was getting annoying and too logical – fashion is supposed to be frivolous anyway – and clicked BUY.
I really should have listened to Kill-joy Minty.
Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t hideous or frumpy, and putting it on was effortless and deceptively wonderful. But getting into the romper was the easy part. Getting out of it was where all my problems began. First of all, Kill-joy Minty was right: it really isn’t practical. It has no zips, no buttons, no nothing by which I could undo in a jiffy in case of toilet emergencies and that’s a disaster just waiting to happen. Sure it’s comfortable, and looks cute on but WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING??!! I’d never be able to go to the Ladies room, ever. It’s such a ginormous hassle getting it off that I’m considering ripping a side seam open and getting someone experienced to get a zip installed.
Note to self: Make sure all future rompers have functioning hardware.