Friday, 12 August 2011
Retail therapy (by Phoebe, aged ten)
Phoebe (granddaughter; see photo) and I were discussing the joys of retail therapy yesterday. and Phoebe, already a seasoned shopper, put it in a nutshell. It went something like this:
"You just want to buy something. You don't know what it is, and you probably don't even want it at all, but you just want to go shopping and...you know...buy it. You know?"
Oh yes, Phoebe. I know only too well. And that's why my wardrobe (No. Not my spring or autumn wardrobe. Just the thing in the bedroom, with doors, and hangers) is full of dreadful mistakes.
Posted by Frances Garrood at 12:26
Labels: retail therapy
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Oh, how that rings a bell! I'm afraid it's almost the story of my life. My flat is just chocker with things I donn't need or hardly ever use, but more often than not, if I go out, I've just got to buy something. Sometimes it rather scares me, especially as I'm so shor of space.ReplyDelete
Yes - and they start very young these days!ReplyDelete
I don't like shopping - am I weird?ReplyDelete
No, Patsy. Just terribly sensible!ReplyDelete