Exactly how many times can you ‘fall off the wagon’ before it counts as cheating…?

Things that I’ve learned this week…

1. This last 2 months of my clothing ban is not going to be easier than the first 4.  (This is probably my own fault for jinxing it at the start of the week, by uttering the ridiculous words ‘well, I’ve lasted 4 months, the next 2 shouldn’t be that hard.’  What a fool.)

2. No matter how many hours you spend smiling at a rabbit, it will NEVER smile back.  (This little gem was brought to me, and your good selves, by The Madster – a very, very funny 3 year old, who apparently has a very grumpy rabbit.)

3.  I still have very little willpower.

4.  Bonnie Tyler is from Swansea.

 Ok, so only the first and third points are really relevant to this week’s post, but it’s nice when we share…

One day rather early in the week, I was looking through the fashion pages of several gossip magazines with the girls from work (a thrice daily occurence), which is when the ridiculous statement regarding the next 2 months being easy left my lips.  Guess what happened that very night?  I found a pair of shoes.  Kurt Geiger shoes.  They were so pretty that I actually had to bite the knuckle on my index finger.  I know, it’s a surprising turn of events – just like when a character in a soap utters the words ‘well, it can’t get any worse’, and promptly loses their job/wife/sanity.  Or when, just as it seems the heroine will escape from the evil serial killer in a horror film, it turns out that the aforementioned serial killer is still alive.  And hiding somewhere totally (un)expected.

Last week, you may remember that I told you about a website called BigWardrobe.  It was here that the shoes were displayed, almost parading up and down in front of me to illustrate their loveliness.  So, I did what’s worked so well for me in the last couple of weeks, and emailed the seller to see if she wanted to swap.

On a side note, I promised to tell you about the swaps that I was waiting for last week.   Here’s the list;

Dress with floral top and black pencil skirt bottom – is actually a tulip bottom skirt.  I LOVE it.  Even more so as it’s a size smaller than I usually take (thank you MyFitnessPal – I no longer hate you for making me go to bed hungry).

Black dress with red sash – gorgeous, but definitely a size smaller than the label suggests.  So, I have 2 choices – put it to the back of my wardrobe and swear that I’ll diet even more to get into it, or re-list it.  Guess which one I chose? 

Black dress with ruffles – actually from Lipsy, which is great.  Has no zips or other methods of doing up, meaning that it slides on and off.  In theory.  Except that it wouldn’t go over my chest, so I forced it.  And then spent 40 minute (and a very, VERY panicked phone call to my Lovely Mum) before I got it off.  It was great.

Heart print shoes – very cute.

Pink shoes – very cute.  And small.  So, as it’s rather unlikely that I can slim into a pair of shoes, these will be re-listed.  Unless anyone knows someone with smaller feet than me.  A seven year old niece perhaps?  (My feet are a 3 or a 4.)

I’m now waiting for;

A red dress

A bird print dress

A Kate Moss for Topshop dress (score!)

A blue party dress

A grey/pink/black dress

I may have too many dresses once these have all arrived…Ah well, if need be, I can always adapt them into something useful.  Like pillow cases.  Or outfits for my dogs.  Or outfits for my cats (which I’m sure that they will then adapt into decorations for their catflap.  On an unrelated note, I found something else to spend my money on, and Jiminy – my conscience in the shape of a work colleague, for those of you who’ve forgotten – can’t even complain, because it’s something practical and useful – please click hereish to see their new catflap!)

So, that was a tangeant within a tangeant.  Aplogies for that – back to this week’s topic, and the Kurt Geiger shoes.  Where had I gotten to?  Had I emailed?…Yes, yes I had.  So, I received a quick and lovely reply, letting me know that the seller was really looking for a cash offer, but would accept £20 including postage.  For a pair of shoes that cost £120, and were still in the box.  STILL IN THE BOX!  But, as you know, I’m on a clothing ban.  But £20!  So, I went and asked my Lovely Mum for some advice.  And when I say advice, what I really mean is that I wanted her to tell me that it was totally acceptable to buy them.  Which she almost did.  I explained my dilemma, and the conversation then went something like this;

‘Well darling, they are lovely, but you do have lots of lovely shoes.  Would you wear them?’

‘Of course I would, they’re so pretty, and they’re worth so much…’

‘If you want them, then that’s ok, I won’t tell anyone.  And you’ve done so well for the last 4 months.  I mean, there have been a few things that you’ve really wanted and you’ve not broken your resolution.  It would be a shame to break it as you’re getting close to finishing, but if you really want them, I understand.  I’m just so proud of you for lasting this long.’

See – Supernanny for grown ups.  She knew that by telling me how proud she was of me, and for praising me for doing so well, there was no way that I was going to buy the bloody shoes.  She also knew that reminding me that I have lots of lovely shoes that don’t get worn enough, I’d feel guilty about even thinking of buying more.  Especially when they have ankle straps, which make my legs look short, so would probably just sit in the crate under my bed.  So, Lovely Mum – thank you for keeping me on the straight and narrow, whilst acting like you were just making conversation.  You conversational wizard.

I have also taken to browsing several well known online stores, that were key to my shopping addiction in the first place.  I can’t quite explain why I’ve taken to doing this – is it because I can then share with all my friends how many nice things are around at the moment?  Is it because I like to research fashion and enjoy keeping up to date on the latest trends, even if there’s not a hope that I can recreate them with what I already have in my wardrobe?  (70s flares and chiffon blouses, I’m talking about you.)  Or is it because it’s getting towards the end of the ban now, and I’m starting to wonder if anyone would really notice if I just bought one new dress?  I think that it may be all three.  But mostly the last reason.  With this in mind;

 Boohoo, New Look, Paul’s Boutique and River Island – if you’re reading, please can you take your sites down, just until the 17th June?  I’d be incredibly grateful.

How many calories does the Happy Dance burn?!

Dreams about shopping: 6

Dreams about chocolate: 4

Dreams about Jonny Lee Miller: 2

Dreams about eating chocolate with Jonny Lee Miller whilst walking around Topshop: 1 (best dream EVER.)

This week, I have been mainly dancing around the house (as well as dreaming about Jonny Lee Miller – for those of you that didn’t read my last post and are unsure of who he is – go and have a quick look.  Go on, I’ll wait…you could probably Google him too, whilst you’re online), doing my Happy Dance (copyright C.COOPER/K.SHEPPARD 2007).  It’s a very special dance, created by myself and a rather talented friend of mine (I’m not going to lie, most of her dances are technically much better.  Technically in dance and literal terms).  It’s essentially hopping from foot to foot, and waving your forearms around like a penguin.  And it’s cool.

The reason for my sophisticated and classy hopping around the house (including a few rather tricky negotiations of the stairs)?  Well, I have news.  No, wait – it’s way bigger news than that…

I HAVE NEWS!!!!!!!!

You may have noticed that I’ve mentioned a certain dress from Zara a couple of times in the last few weeks.  Well…my Lovely Stepdad (and Lovely Mum) bought it for me.  Yep, that’s right, they did.  I’m led to believe that Lovely Stepdad was the driving force behind it (it’s not that he’s Lovelier than my Mum, they’re both great, it’s just that she thinks that my whinging shouldn’t necessarily be encouraged with presents.  Really, she’s like Supernanny for grown up children). 

They bought me the black version of the dress (which is better than for me than the red version – with my reddish/purple hair  I could have ended up looking like a giant tomato.  I’m reliably informed that this is not a good look).  (Also, my Fabulous friend has the red version.  If I have the black, I can fool myself into thinking that the different colour is the reason that I don’t look the same as her when I’m wearing it…it’s nothing to do with her being much slimmer than me, and, let’s be honest, a LOT prettier…) It’s the most beautiful dress in the whole wide world – I love it so much that I’ve been tempted to sleep with it under my pillow every night.  Only the fact that I might dribble on it has stopped me.  Not that I dribble in my sleep or anything, you understand.  If I’ve had a bad day at work/thought about the end of Scrubs/walked past a massive display of Easter Eggs in Tesco and started getting the shakes, I put it on, and all of a sudden, things don’t seem so bad. 

But the problem that I have now is – do I wear it all the time, meaning that as many people as possible get to bask in its amazingness, but possibly dimming the special quality somewhat, or do I save it for something really special (meeting the Queen/Jonny Lee Miller/the cast of TOWIE), meaning that it makes the occasion that bit more special, but running the risk of seeming ungrateful to my Lovely Parents?  As dilemmas go, it’s perhaps not the most worthy, but it’s a dilemma nonetheless.  I would also like to point out to The Boy that this is NOT cheating.  I haven’t given my parents anything in exchange for this, except love, affection and money.  (I’m joking about the money bit.  Obviously).

So, that’s the reason that I’ve been doing the Happy Dance.  In other, unrelated news (but news that links to the title of this post), The Boy has recently started using the My Fitness Pal app on his phone.  Wanting to be supportive, (and as I’ve given up all the lovely, chocolatey things that make mealtimes fun), I decided to sign up for it too (and as I’ve previously mentioned, I don’t want a bum the size of Hampshire).  It’s going well (ish) – after 4 whole days, I’ve apparently lost a pound (it fell out of my pocket.  Sorry, but I bet that you were thinking of the same joke, I was only saving you the job), but I would just like to point out that if any of my other ‘pals’ sent me to bed hungry for 4 whole days, we wouldn’t stay pals for very long.  Just putting it out there.