Cinnamon patrol

The company that makes some of the world's ugliest shoes is in trouble.

I don't care what you say, Crocs are ugly. Furthermore, they can be dangerous (all those people getting them stuck in escalators and having gruesome accidents), and they are no substitute for proper Birkenstocks for chefs/doctors/nurses, in part because they don't have the same footbed design.

Ugly, and hopefully not produced for much longer.

Thanks, recession. Now, can you get onto the Uggs please?

Labels: European fashions, Laura, World events

I don't want to minimise Millie Elder's problems, but what is she wearing? I think she's been inspired by some of the locals in our area. This would be acceptable day or evening wear in Dublin 7 and 8.

Labels: david, European fashions

I've never been one of those people who can eat and eat and EAT and never gain weight. (Hello, immediate family, how are those crazy-fast metabolisms of yours?)

I didn't really make an effort to slim down for our wedding. It seemed a shame to miss out on those yummy cocktails/that nice chocolate/those delicious chips... you get the idea. I got a little skinnier, but not much. I figured I'd probably stay that size for awhile if I worked at it. So I bought work clothes in anticipation of our move to Dublin, and prepared myself to make an effort with food.

Fast forward five months. (Can you believe it's been five months already??) I'm a size or two smaller, because none - NONE - of the clothes that used to fit me, fit me anymore.

Okay, my t-shirts are all right. And the more fitted dresses still look ok as less-fitted dresses.

But none of my pants and skirts fit right. My beloved Workshop jeans - too "firm" to wear on my hen's night (I had a lot of fun planned), are loose. LOOSE, people!

And the most annoying thing - aside from an ever-shrinking wardrobe - is that I don't know how I did it. Okay, I don't pig out all the time, but i eat what I want, when I want, pretty much. I don't exercise much, and I don't have a medical problem or drug addiction to burn the extra calories. (I know you that when you think "Laura", you think "drugs". Obviously.)

It's like the fat fairy decided to be kind to me, now that I'm married and can let myself go. Which I'm not complaining about.

What I *am* complaining about is that I'm now down to 2 pairs of pants, a pair of jeans, and a couple skirts that actually kind of fit me, and are appropriate for activities other than mooching around the house. (My new trackpants also fit, and are nice, but are not work-appropriate, no matter how I accessorise them.)

So I need new clothes. Only, I don't want to go shopping. I can't be arsed. But if I don't, I will start to look like a sad, uniform-wearing loser. Or risk flashing everyone when my pants droop too low.

While these are both options, they are not very attractive. And there are enough unattractively-dressed people in the world. I know this because I see them every day: the white pants, overly tight skirts, barely-covered bosoms, thick makeup - and that's just the men!

(Seriously, there are some really good dressers here, and some really appalling ones. We seem to live near the appalling dressers, which makes it ok to shop in your pjs, but is less than inspirational.)

So. Shopping this weekend. Even though I don't want to. And when I'm magically a size or two bigger in 6 months' time, you can laugh at me for not just buying a big belt. But I won't need to go shopping.

Labels: Dublin, European fashions, Grumbles, Laura

Here in Ireland, an SSIA is a savings scheme that the government started to encourage people to... save, I guess. It was a long-term scheme, and it matures around now, so you hear a lot about SSIAs in banking and financial services ads (of which there are many).

But for me, an SSIA is a Sudden Shopping Incident or Accident. And I've had two recently.

I know, I know, it sounds bad. But bear in mind that until yesterday, I hadn't shopped for myself at all - apart from one shirt I had to buy for an interview.

So yesterday, in a state of post-haircut bliss, I bought a pair of shoes. I was looking for something different for our trip to Paris - but these kind of winked at me. A lot.

They're leather, with leather lining, a walkable heel height, and best of all, cheap: 28 euros. And since I don't have any black sandals here at all (and the one pair I have on the way are still in Auckland, and David hates them), I figured it was okay.

Then today, in a state of post-haircut depression (the day after the haircut is always a grim hair day: you can't replicate the great style that the hairdresser gave you, no matter how many notes you took or even if you bought the exact products they told you to), I popped out to send a parcel and see if I could find what I'd been looking for.

Which was a pair of flat, cute shoes, suitable for walking and sight-seeing, but a step up from my beloved, but very worn-looking white leather Converse all-stars.

I got lucky in Penney's, which is a little like Glassons, but with men's, children's, home, and beauty departments, and about ten times more variety, for about a quarter of the price. So, not really much of a comparison, but you get what I'm saying.

I wouldn't recommend Penney's to people who want clothes to last forever, or to people who hate shopping. The sheer volume means you have to spend a little time hunting, and what you get won't be a good investment piece - but by the time it's out of style it'll be falling apart anyway.

Anyway, I hit the jackpot with not one but TWO pairs of cute shoes. One to match a great copper-coloured top I have, and to wear out in the evening. And one pair so I don't always wear sneakers.

Conveniently, these shoes solve my what-to-bring-for-Paris problem. You know, the "what shoes will I bring that will be comfy but vaguely attractive, since I don't want chic Parisians to sneer at me any more than is strictly necessary, but I also want to keep the baggage to a minimum, since I intend to buy other things to use up our weight limit" feeling.

There's only one hitch. I don't remember a holiday with David when I haven't worn Birkenstocks or sneakers to sight-see. Will he start expecting me to look decent on holiday? Will he even recognise me after 3 months' solid sneaker-wearing?

Labels: European fashions, Laura

I've finished my contractually-obliged responsibilities for the week, and before I hang up my fashion suit, I thought I'd post a photo. This will allow fashion suit designers in Auckland and Melbourne to get a look at the latest in European suit fashions. My face has been altered to protected my identity.

Laura didn't mention that our new apartment is about 5 minutes walk from where I'm working. That's pretty amazing! Now I know what to do with my 1.25 hour lunch break - go home.


As well the fashion suit, you can see nearly our entire short-term apartment - no wide-angle lens required.

Labels: david, European fashions