Monochromatic...

Yet again I find myself apologising for my lack of blog activity. It has been too long and I have missed transmitting to the void (and to my handful of loyal followers).

My life has become a continuous stream of colour charts, inspirational doodles in my ever growing notebook and paint splattered hair. The house and it's all encompassing workload is starting to consume me. The dressing room that I had dreamt of has been neglected as I find myself in a vicious circle of DIY attire and no time nor money (to go out) with which to put it to good use. 

I try to spend time however, in the inner sanctum every day, even if it is just a cherished five minutes, tea in hand, where I an reflect about the day ahead, or the day that has just passed. Almost every item holds a memory, good or bad (although I am happy to report there aren't many bad ones). I tend to form an unhealthy attachment to my clothes and look upon them as old friends or new friendships yet to develop. 

When you are constantly occupied as I seem to be it is all to easy to forget to make the effort and still dress up.  Too many times have I caught myself "popping" to B&Q in my scruffs, repeatedly telling myself that it's ok because we are working on the house.  

Audrey Hepburn will be turning in her beautiful grave.

So, when the  rare opportunity arose a couple of weeks ago to pop to our neighbouring city of Cardiff for the afternoon, I ran upstairs to the dress section and began scanning for a suitable piece. The one I chose is below. 

The classic wrap dress (a curvy girls best friend), in a black and white geometric print.  This was originally a supermarket dress but I found it in a charity shop and paid around £3 for it. I don't tend to wear a lot of black but black and white I like. Classic, easy, versatile. And any excuse to dig out my favourite black and white Great Gatsby style heels is a bonus.

Now me being moi, I didn't quite bank of the gale force winds that battered us all around Cardiff bay and so my choice of outfit was debatable. Especially by John who tried very hard not to berate me too much for dressing inappropriately. Again. 

But any dress was a welcome change from the dirt, paint and dust covered uniform that has become my staple outfit. Gale force 9 or otherwise. 

Now if you can excuse me, the tip beckons.