Further Adventures in Fashion WonderlandPosted: April 10, 2010
During my weekend trip to London I didn’t hit a single high street store. I didn’t even go to the Topshop at Oxford Circus which is usually a must. Oh no, H and I held our noses up and went to all the boutiques in and around Bond Street, acting like we had money to burn but fooling no-one – least of all the Moschino doorman who looked us up and down as though we were vermin when we dared to step over the threshold.
Moshino, Nicola Farhi, Burberry- we hit them all- most of them I’ve never visited before as when going high end I usually just go to Selfridges or Liberty where I can see all the collections in one location. It’s not like I’m a real shopper so there’s no real need for me to spend hours going from boutique to boutique so the Bond Street area was a new experience. We would have gone to the Marina Rinaldi store and tried stuff on if they had let us in. There were private clients inside so the door was locked. Humph!Talk about being snubbed! The jewel in the crown for me was the Vivienne Westwood shop. I swear, if all six of my numbers ever come up Ms Westwood is going to be inundated with custom clothing request because I squealed my way from one end of that store to the other like a kid on a fairground ride and I came out of there DIZZY and grinning like a fool. Another new experience – the Jimmy Choo store. Can I just say that the majority of the shoes left me unmoved. Is that sartorial blasphemy? Will I be struck down by a mock- crock jewel encrusted thunderbolt for daring to utter a word against footwear royalty? I’m not saying they were horrible, it’s just that most of them didn’t make my heartbeat race. The only pair that I did modestly coo over was these….
…. that were wearing the very immodest price tag of £1095- or $1640 USD. I guess I have good taste. I picked them up (half expecting to be wrestled to the floor by security and have the shoe wrenched to safety from my fat indelicate grasp) and thought hmm…… if I was paying over a grand for a pair of shoes I really wouldn’t want the pair from the stockroom that everyone’s sweaty foot has been inside. I’d want them made to measure, factory fresh and delivered to my house on a satin cushion carried by this man…
….with a lap dance thrown in. I don’t think that’s me being an unreasonable tightwad, I just like value for money.