Last Saturday was my maiden trip to the Clothes show live. My friend Mrs Z is a clothes show veteran, so I contacted her a while ago to see if I could meet her down there and we could go round together.
I wasn't sure what to expect, I though that the Clothes Show was all high end designers showing off their new collections and as a result be crawling with fashionistas in outfits that look like they beaten half to death with a rolled up copy of Dazed and Confused magazine. So what better place I thought, to don my tartan jumpsuit. Surely this of all places is where such a an outfit would be accepted... embraced even?!
My day started at 6:30, dragging myself out of bed to get ready and be out of the door for 8am. I was supposed to be at the Clothes Show for 10 in order to catch the fashion show, but a nice little traffic jam on the M6 put a stop to that.
As I got off teh bus and walked into the NEC, it dawned on my that the Clothes Show is less of a fashion event and more of a trolley dash. The majority of girls were wearing clothes built for speed. Footwear that can get you from one discount brand store to the next, buying up bags and bags of stuff you didn't know you needed.
I felt, like a big tartan twat.
Mrs Z and 3 of her friends met me after the show and we quickly formulated a plan to get to Irregular Choice in a methodical fashion. This was Mrs Z's 6th year, so she was armed with cash, had booked our table for lunch and knew exactly what to do and where to go to get the best out of the gazillions of stores.
After promising myself I wouldn't buy anything, I was caught up in consumption vacuum! There was no walking away from the stalls and counting to 10, there was no forming a 5 point plan on how to get out of debt.... only me, squealing that I'd managed to negotiate my Sister's and my cousins Christmas pressies for over 50% less that they should have been.... then trotting off to another store to buy essential items such as the "Hair Boustier"... yes that's right a plastic thingie that helps you create a beehive. At the time of purchase, I faintly remember mouthing to the the sales woman "Wow, what an amazing piece of product design". For fuck's sake - someone punch me now!
After a morning of shopping, and a heroic amount of time spent by Mrs Z in the irregular choice store, we went for lunch (Thanks for my treat Mrs Z!!) in the prefab restaurant. After lunch I needed to get back on the road as I was off down to Devon, but managed to get lost for a further half an hour in the maze of clothes and inappropriately dressed teens.
Next year I'll be taking 2 essentials - money and comfy shoes.
