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THE HUNT

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A big part of falling in love is the "will they, won't they?" element.  The Ross and Rachel effect.  The not-knowing, the building up of it in your head, the waiting.  And I'm not talking about romantic love, I'm talking about falling head over heels for a pair of Zara cowboy shoes, or a vintage cheerleader jacket emblazoned with the first letter of your name.  

I saw these shoes on Instagram being worn by a woman I'm completely obsessed with one morning when I'd woken up very early and couldn't get back to sleep.  I was just passing the hours till I could be bothered to get up/had to pee, and there they were, and I wanted them so bad.  But, being from Zara and in the sale, they were (of course) no longer available on the site.  So at 9am that day I stomped across London to a branch that claimed to stock them in my size, and there they were, right by the front door.  And they'd been reduced even more by the time I got there.  The fact I was getting something I so badly wanted, and for cheaper than I expected, well, it made me slightly giddy.  Far more giddy, I would argue, than if I'd just bought them full price easy-peasy off the site three months ago. 

Meanwhile the jacket was found after trawling eBay and Etsy (all the E shops, mate) for several hours.  Again, it was yards cheaper than any of the other jackets I was perusing, because it was mislabelled and  the lady selling it hadn't taken very good photos of it, so once again, I had the thrill of a bargain.  I'm chuffed to bits with both of these items, these new pieces of stuff to add to my collection, but perhaps 33% of that chuffage is because I had to work for them.  They played hard to get.

In other news, it was very windy yesterday.   

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