Today was in no way special or for any reason different from any other day. It was after all THURSDAY. (AKA #throwbackthursday to instagrammers) So it being Thursday and not a particularly special day, I did what I always do on not particularly special days. I went wandering the streets like a junkie crack whore for more premium merchandise.
Well holy shiz. After a lovely coffee with a friend, who works in Dover Street Market in Mayfair, I decided to let my feet do the talking. I mean walking. And walk they did. Right into Joseph on Bond Street. Upon entry, I spied the PS11s in variant colours of Autumn and absentmindedly picked one of them up like it was my missing baby or something.
After oogling the rest of the merch, there it was. The LAZIO, by Isabel Marant I grabbed them (yes grabbed them) and headed straight for a member of staff whom I nearly ran over. I asked (politely) for my size and in BLACK she said she only had 41 and that black was sold out in all the Joseph stores- Well yo I needed to try them anyway. As she went down to get them, I thought to myself: 'Could this be the day I buy the Lazios? Could it be? This could be THE DAY! The day I buy the Lazios day!' Like I'm Elizabeth bloody Barnet from Pride and Prejudice or something. I teetered around the store, in the boots, getting a feel of what I thought was one size too big of a boot and one step away from making a terrible mistake.
Burgundy is a beautiful colour but I need Black. Black, black, black. Black is chic, black is elegant, London friendly, pavement friendly, non fashion-persons friendly, boy friendly, city friendly etc etc..but here they were and they were not black.
I deliberated for half an hour like an nit-witted idiot about what to do. In the end I turned to the very patient and kind associate and said: 'Thank you but I am specifically looking for Black, will you call me if you happen to get them in?' and walked away.(Well, by walking away I mean putting deposits down on other objects of desire and blindly writing my details down into their very big little black book and nodding continuously, like I'm lobotomised or something as the cashier does some 'cashiering', and I am left wanting many pretty things of little consequence...)
Was that a mistake or should I go back and get the Burgundy in the size too big before it's too late? Oh the Anguish!