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.