Day 189 forgive me for I have sinned

This is the post I have dreaded having to write, the one which I promised I wouldn't make, the one that everyone promised me would happen. So forgive me for I have sinned. A purchase has been made. Potentially it could have been worse. Perhaps when explaining something like this, the only place to start is the beginning.

So yesterday I left work at a reasonable hour and whilst wandering towards the commuter melting pot that is Victoria Station, I found myself considering today's outfit. It was stressful, the knowledge that my boots were resoled and ready for collection was not enough to drive away the lingering hosiery based distress that has been plaguing my every waking hour. Everywhere I look at the moment elfin like fashionistas waltz past in heavy knit tights and boot socks of multiple hues. They light up the grey of the city and breathe personality into even the most corporate of pavements. Yet I could not join them, not even get close. Ensconced in a depth of thought that is surely only normal for astrophysicists, I could not be accountable for myself and all of a sudden as the mists of the mind lifted, I found myself in the hosiery haven that is Topshop.

This is the point at which individuals with a modicum of self control would have regained their composure and, holding head up high, marched themselves straight back out of that den of iniquity and into the bracing evening breeze. Sadly, it is apparent that I am unable to claim a sliver of self control and thus I find myself in some form of bizarre 21st century confessional, professing my guilt and personal shame through an electronic and entirely faceless media. Moments were spent considering keeping quiet, pretending nothing had happened, making like an ostrich and burying my head in the sand. But then I remembered the whole point of all of this rigmoral is to document the journey, the highs and the oopses. The broken heels and the hosiery based indiscretions, warts and all if you like.

So today getting up I admit I felt a little bit of a failure, something which was only compounded by my inability to decide what to wear despite being the shamefaced owner of a pair of grey ribbed tights. In a bid to make good I determined that I should don the offending items and that I should make sure I wore something which I wouldn't have been able to wear without the purchase. The very worst thing would be to buy and then to waste the deadly deed by hiding the godforsaken item. Thus it was that I dug out my Jack Wills candy striped ra-ra skirt and completely forgot how short it is before faffing about for quite some time with the rest of my outfit and managing to take an hour and a half to get ready. Completely ridiculous but probably not actually related to the specific issue of the day....disorganised chaos is fast becoming my normal state of being.

A problem I have had for some time (I am sure you will have noticed) is that I find it difficult to request anyone I work with to take a photo of my days outfit. This is no new Feeling like such a desperate failure did not help the course of the day and thus I found it very difficult to ask for a photo from anyone at work. Having discussed this in the past I won't dwell on it today but will have a little think about it for a future post....(how excited you must now be)! Suffice to say, I failed to manage to ask for a photo and now have had to have one taken after my dinner, with post dinner sleepiness and day old makeup and hair; bad times reader, bad times. Please do not judge me on what I am confident was a nice outfit 12 hours ago.

From top to bottom: newly re soled boots....HURRAH, socks, the offending tights, Jack Wills skirt, generic tops and a little cardigan (note another impractical and non heat generating jumper). 

So, there it is...my first true blogging blunder. I hope I am forgiven. I will be back soon.

The half way post

So, this is it. My official halfway post. Despite my general lack of self discipline I am delighted to report that, regardless of the posting drought that has thwarted the winter months, I remain true to my challenge and have not been tempted by even the shiniest of pretty things. I am officially proud of myself.

Over the last few days I have been getting back into the general swing of blog thinking and am trying to remember to have my photo taken each day. Unfortunately I am finding myself falling foul of the photo phobic tendencies which plagued my early blogging days. Rest assured I am not suffering photophobia, merely an aversion to having my photo taken. Sadly this has also been accompanied by a sprinkling of short term memory loss and between these two afflictions I have forgotten to have two days of pictures taken. This in itself would be sufficient to send an individual of weak spirit into a decline, however I must report that the situation is worse than it may first appear. I forgot to have a photo taken on New Year's Eve which was the half way point of my entire blog. So you will be forced to visualise my resplendent self in my blue, rehemmed Topshop dress, animal coat (natch) and nude shoes.

Day 183 (I think) a little New Years' Eve Eve drink. It's all about the animal coat at the moment

The day before New Years Eve I did manage to remember to have a photo taken which is a boon. Again I am sad to report abject failure on New Years Day, however I feel this may represent somewhat of a public service I cannot profess to have achieved high personal standards of dress at any point. In fact suffice a short trip out for lunch I spent the majority of the day ensconced in a blanket, nursing a cup of English Breakfast and pondering the potential for hair of the dog. Not my finest moment I am sure you will agree. Today however, I am proud to announce that I did have a photo taken and I think it is day 186.

Day 186 (I think): pretty casual for a little wander about town with Nina

The most notable piece of news from the last couple of days is my visit to the cobbler. I managed to get two pairs reheeled and have put my flat black boots into intensive care, Tuesday is D-Day so we shall see what can be done. Sorry, I never said it was going to make the front page.

Half way feels a bit of a milestone, although I always knew I was of competitive spirit, I am not sure I ever really expected to get this far. Whilst some have said this is a ridiculously easy challenge and some in fact suspect they may have already done something like this without noticing, for me it is hard. To a certain extent, buying something new for every occasion has, as discussed become the norm for most of us. What has surprised me, probably the most is the relative ease with which I have been able to cease this. Save for a few notable occasions, for the most part I spent much of the initial period quite happily sailing along, only pausing to marvel at the sheer volume of opportunity that my wardrobe held. It has only been in the last few weeks as seams have started to strain that I have begun to feel genuine concern at the months ahead. If we call the last 6 months an education, I fear the next may become somewhat of a burden as I endeavour to maintain an air of professionalism amongst a sea of greying skinny jeans. As I stretch for the home dye kit I leave you to settle into 2011.