Confession...

Ladies, I have a confession to make...

After eleven months, twenty seven days, twenty hours and thirty two minutes, I broke my New Year's resolution.

As you probably remember, this was the resolution not to buy myself any new clothes or shoes for the whole of 2019.  The nearer it got to the moment when I could actually go and replenish my dwindling wardrobe, the harder it got.  So hard in fact that when I was working at the lovely Emma's vintage shop last Thursday, I finally cracked.

And boy, did I crack in style...

The trouble is that ever since Emma opened her shop, I have known exactly which dresses I was going to buy as soon as Big Ben completed his New Year's Eve job of ringing in 2020.  And so, when I said those fatal words to Emma on Thursday about 'trying on the dresses just in case they don't look as fabulous as I think they are going to look' I knew that I was a lost cause.

Ten minutes later, I had three dresses, a skirt, two cardigans and a pair of shoes wrapped up in a carrier bag to take home.

i'll be honest with you, part of me was a little disappointed in myself for not holding out for another four weeks or so, but let's face it, most resolutions rarely make it to the end of January, let alone November.  So I'm fairly proud of myself, and I am hoping that this enforced frugality has taught me to shop better, rather than buying stuff willy-nilly with no thought as to whether I have a pair of shoes which will work with it.

I've yet to wear any of the new clothes, but I will be giving a beautiful maroon checked dress an airing on Friday afternoon when I am helping out in the shop again.  

Best I leave my purse at home this time though...

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