Day 19 Not a lot going down

So, the other day I was chatting to Caroline, the Denhamator as we like to call her about this wondering I have been doing around the subject of shopping. Following last week's craving for shopping and my hypothesis that in fact we shop to gain control over some point in our life when we find other aspects crumbling like an eroding cliff in a gale.

The insightful lady offered me an alternative view. A view that in fact newness drives our shopping cravings. When life is going badly, when we feel a little bit pants, Caroline suggested that maybe we then associate all around us with how rubbish we feel. Thus meaning that (consciously or subconsciously) we determine that the only thing that could possibly pull us out of the doldrums would be to buy new things absolutely immediately. When things are not going according to plan we blame the shoes that are over two weeks old (tsk) and the dreadfully dull jeans that we loved last week. Desperately we NEED new stuff, not nicer stuff necessarily than we had before but new stuff. Stuff that can never be associated with the unfortunate events that have resulted in the foul mood in which we find ourselves.

Thinking about this over the next few days I found myself increasingly convinced by this argument. A particular memory sprang to mind of a day in March during my 2nd year of university. A boy, had rather unceremoniously dumped me. Not a newsflash you think? Well this dumping would have been insignificant, suffice a few tears had it not been the day before my hair appointment. Now, until this point I had been an unassuming natural blonde, considering a few highlights as my first foray into the world of artificial colour. However when the time came to choose my dye I found myself asking for something different, something which would allow a reinvention of me, I went brunette, with red bits. I hadn't planned it but my circumstance inspired change.

From that moment on I have often changed my hair when I feel like making a conscious statement of change. Both chops and colour changes have, for the last few years, been indicative of moments of significance both small and large. In some way perhaps clothes have been another, albeit less extreme outlet for my emotions. Another way to put old news behind me and get on with the important stuff, the now and indeed the future. I guess you can't really separate the need for control from the need to reinvent yourself of your wardrobe, it is in fact as I suspected all along....girls are terrifyingly complex, even for other girls to understand.

Late photo's I have decided are a bad idea as I have a tendency to look dishevelled and not in a good way. This must be remedied in the coming weeks. This was taken by my housemate at about9.30pm when I had already been half passed out on the sofa for quite some time....NEVER again