Well I wonder.

Romwe is one of the most genius and lusted after online shops in my mental list of all-time-favourite-sites. In fact, I am going to go a little further, and say it's probably my favourite. The prices are extremely reasonable, (don’t get me wrong, it’s no Primark, but then you don’t have to endure the dreadful ear-splitting screams of several dozen McDonalds-pumped children or trail 0 miles an hour in a stream of, ahem, ‘undesirable’ people, to get to the escalators, and that’s worth paying a little more on its own), and unlike similar priced sites (I won’t mention any names, all I’ll say is sometimes I think boo when I have to look through pages and pages of tacky shit before I go ohoo that’s lovely- see what I did there? I know, clever) I don’t gawp in horror at some of the catastrophes they call clothes, I usually drool with longing. So that is all good. Oh and did I mention there’s free shipping? Oh yes my friends. That is a huge incentive for me. I am quite frankly beyond bored with thinking I have found something for £8, and by the time I have gone through the agonising process of convincing myself that, yeah, it is okay to spend a little of my wages on something actually for myself, I find out that it’s actually £14 with shipping. Well I’m sorry but I’d rather not. I understand, having sold things myself over the internet (and getting seriously, seriously screwed by shipping costs), why it is necessary, but c’mon, I’d rather just drag my arse into the blinding lights of Primark and endure the said sufferings (I actually love Primark, so I don’t know why I am hatin’ so hard).

I must tell you though; I have never actually ordered anything from Romwe. I don’t ‘do’ internet shopping. The only reason being is that I am shit scared. I am an extremely indecisive person and tend to be drenched in guilt if I spend large chunks of cash, so my shopping ‘sprees’ tend to result in me coming home, trying on everything I have bought and A) selling them (at a discount) to my little sister or B) returning them, and I know myself too well to trust myself to return an item that I bought over the internet.

However, as you all should know by now (if you don’t, I will now proceed to choke you with my Morrissey obsession) that I love (just a tad) The Smiths and Moz, so you can imagine my excitement when I found this little gem. I genuinely almost wee’d my opaque’s. I have been thinking about it ever since I discovered it (yes, I discovered it, no one else in the world is allowed one). I have mentioned before that I would like a Smiths T-shirt, and why I am yet to buy one, but this just, I just really, really want it. I did prefer the blue one, which is, to my absolute horror, sold out, which is why I am posting this right now, because I have literally just found this soul-destroying news out. So I must dust off the ol’ debit card and stomp on my voice of reservations (repeatedly, mind you, he’s a stubborn little bastard) and buy buy buy! I mean, it is £9 (£8.98- lets not lie to ourselves, it is £9) and there’s no shipping costs. Fully justified; a job well done, if I do say so myself.

EDIT: Also found this Strokes tee on Ebay that I am thinking about buying. But I would much rather get a plain tee and jazz it up Gem Fatale style.

LISTENING TO: Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers- The National

Stella.

Cardigans by Stella McCartney

Since I began noticing clothes- back from the very first day I discovered the thrill of dressing in my 90’s signature of “inside out, wrong-way-round” dressing-up-bin-couture (it was a revolutionary move)- I have never been so stunned, nor besotted, by one item as much as I am with this Stella McCartney cardigan. It is an absolutely remarkable piece of woollen architecture. It’s just so bloody interesting and the texture is so rough and yet so beautiful. It’s one of those pieces that you wouldn’t (believe me I have scrutinized the net for a cheaper version, but with no avail) find anywhere else. It’s versatile in how you could wear it, but it’s a statement. (It’s a cardigan that I can’t even call a cardigan- it’s a ‘piece’).

Every fashion week, I flick through pages and pages of bollocks sloppily written by fashion journalists underneath pictures of catwalks teeming with absolutely nonsensically priced, inexcusably un-wearable (and I don’t mean just Paris) “ready to wear” garments, that are only lusted after by everyone from Anna Wintour to your neighbour because of the flappy label with someone’s name on. I appreciate the difference in quality, design and time between H&M and Chanel, but it still doesn’t explain the ludicrous difference in price. Unless Lagerfeld has personally stitched each seam with his own silver hair, I just don’t understand how someone can pay so much for something that in as little as 6 months time, will no longer be valid as appealing in the Vogue editorials.
I admit, I too would love a Mulberry Alexa; I would shiver with pleasure if a Burberry trench was on my shoulders, and would feel like the most powerful, chic, woman in this side of the bloggersphere in a Chanel Tweed suit, but come on, is this something that you’re going to want to keep for your daughter one day? It gives me the same sort of emotions as reading the Daily Mail; a dangerous mix of loathing, jaw-grinding anger and a wave of absolute hysteria at the farcical claims they make. This is just that. It’s pathetic. And anyone who can afford, and are willing to pay, that much for such an, frankly, embarrassingly hideous, piece of clothing, deserve to be stripped of their assets; wealth and wardrobe and left with nothing but their lovely pvc investment to survive in.
I have fell victim of label lust; you pay the extra for the trust in the brand, and the feeling of eminence you get from owning it. You’re essentially paying for heritage. You wouldn’t savour a River Island smock as an heirloom, but you would a McQueen. And my point is (yes, I did have a point), just as my Grandmother has saved a wardrobe full of her favourite pieces from her life time for my sister and me; this is something that would be in mine.

FACT: It would take me 60 days to earn enough to pay for this cardigan
I would have to starve for 70.
No cardigan is worth that, lets be honest.