After a weekend of shopping, I have loads of new clothes, both outer and inner if you see what I mean. I’m trying to impress DM with my sartorial elegance although I know he prefers jeans and tee shirts. It’s an amazing thought that I actually own enough summer clothes now so I can go for a week without needing washing and ironing done. Before this weekend, I had to rely on Jo’s good works to get me through the week.
I’m feeling pretty pleased with the fact that I actually got off my behind and went shopping, especially as I came out of the experience with some really nice things not the usual horrid stuff I come home with. It’s been made easier for me this year in as much as I just love hippy clothes and everything is sheer, gauzy Indian cotton (wonderful) and embroidered things so I’m in clothing heaven. Thank goodness the shops seem to have rebelled against the crimplene stuff that’s been filling the shelves for the past couple of years. I’ve just discovered the delights of East – better than Monsoon in my view.
There is still no real pleasure for me in shopping but I must say it makes life easier when you do go to the shops rather than try to buy clothes online. I had a real problem when buying underwear recently at marksandspencer.com to discover that I’d mistakenly ordered the wrong size for all of the bras I’d ordered. When I emailed them to ask what to do they directed me to their stores for replacements. They have the hugest store about half a mile from here but I hate going in there with a passion. So, my best-laid plans of shopping online still meant I ended up in a store changing the bras for the right size!
Anyway, I’m flush with new outfits but I still have a problem. They all have labels with size, fabric content and washing instructions clearly visible to anyone with sight of the garment. The gorgeous, kingfisher blue gauzy shirt I’m wearing at the moment was put on then taken off again immediately so I could cut the labels out because they were clearly visible. I really don’t see why my size and how to wash the garment needs to be emblazoned on a label so prominent that I can read it through the fabric at three paces away, let alone when close-up. So, my No 1 dressing table item at the moment is a pair of scissors so each new thing that gets worn can have its labels cut out.
Somehow I feel as though I’m in the minority on this one but surely all it serves to do if you are in the throes of passion and a label is visible in your underwear is to distract and irritate. I'm sure next time DM is grappling with my bra straps he will lovingly whisper in my ear 'darling, don't forget to make sure this is washed at 40ºc and dried flat....oh and by the way, no tumble driers!'
A solution? Why not put size details and washing instructions on the card label that’s attached to most new garments, rather than in the garment itself? Why not put them on a label that disintegrates after two washes? Why not trust that consumers know how to wash their clothes without ruining them? I expect the nanny state we all live in will ensure that doesn’t happen.
And as for the desire to wear clothes with the labels on the OUTSIDE? Well, to me that’s simple. It’s a straightforward case of ‘look at me, I can afford Dolce & Gabbana’….or Gucci, or Burberry, or Adidas or whatever. The designer labels really saw the change in the economic and social climate and maximised their business by preying on the desire to be seen as affluent. I’d rather be seen dead than sporting a designer label on my breast or arse. But like I say, I’m in a minority there.
PS – it’s just occurred to me as I type this in my Word document that the words ‘Gucci’ ‘Adidas’ and ‘Burberry’ are not highlighted in red so the Microsoft dictionary thinks these are real words……..need I say more?
