My Mum always called me a magpie. I can be on the other side of the street in a rush and can spot something shiny in a shop window.
Let’s face it, pretty sparkly things just cheer me up. Who’s day isn’t made better by a metallic trainer, a sequin jacket or a golden skirt. (Disclaimer, I’m not a vacuous idiot. This stuff won’t help with the serious shit, but sorts out some proper post holiday or Monday blues)
Now I can’t even think where this love comes from. Maybe it was spending my late teens dressed in a lot of black? You could find me in miscellaneous pubs and friends houses in the mid 90s dressed pretty much all the time in a Nirvana T-shirt and Dr Martin boots. The idea of wanting to draw attention to myself back then with the use of anything shiny would have made me laugh (or at least crack a sort of smile on my very cynical teenage face, I probably would have just ignored you and lit another joss stick)
Could I have been traumatised by wearing too many hand me downs? Which I’m sure many little sisters have to suffer through. Although this is where I should point out I just have one older brother, and after an unfortunate haircut aged about 12 my Dad thought it was funny to introduce me to other people as his younger son. Cheers Dad, Love you.
The shiny things kind of creep up on you. You start out small. A statement necklace here, a metallic bag there. But these are just gateway purchases. Soon you’re on to the big things. It’s risky, one wrong move and you can look like Christmas threw up on you. It’s all about balance, max two items at a time. (Unless you’re in Vegas, that’s where you can break all rules) Now I did worry about the dress in Vegas, but if you can’t wear red sequins on your 40th Birthday in Vegas, when can you?!