Tuesday, 1 June 2010

Paying the rent, possibly only in wellies

So it's officail, until June 26th I am broke. And not broke in a mangeable, can pay the rent but might need to take packed lunches and no shopping kind of way, which I am usually pretty good at avoiding anyway. No, broke in a holy Mr Kipling what am I going to do aside from invoke the god of easy to find cake kind of way.
I am entirely blaming work and not my ridiculous spending habits and frivolous holidays to South Africa and Wales for this - they've changed the system by which they pay me so I essentially have to wait two months to get paid. I haven't been paid since mid April and on June 9th I have a £1000 bill to pay. There is currently £70 left of my overdraft and the bank card for my secret account for emegencies has stopped working all together due to lack of funds. Oh joy.

If anyone has any (preferably legal) ideas, please do send them my way.
In the meantime let us discuss something far more sartorially interesting - Wellington boots. I have a long-standing love for wellies. I love wellies so much I even went through a phase of wearing them to school when I was in sixth form and suddenly liberated from the strictures of school uniform and dyed my hair pilar box red.
Now, of course, I know that this is a bit odd. But every now and then it is actually appropriate to wear wellies.
No, not those god awful patterned bright pink things that they sell in the women's section of every supermarket these days. More the black or green kind that still have a light dusting of mud on them and are found in large groups in the back hallways of country houses.
Hunters are good, but new ones defeat the point really and if you team them with a white satin wedding dress and fur stole on a beach, as in the adverts on their website, you are possibly a bit wrong in the head - also if you buy Jimmy Choo for Hunter you are dead to me. 

Wellies actually look great with thick opaque tights and something very short combined with a big jumper, possibly one that belongs to your boyfriend (or someone else's if that's easier), and a Burberry mac.
Honestly they do.
This outfit also has the added bonus of making you look young enough to get ID'd while buying Welsh whisky (which burns in the best kind of way, but is really the only thing to drink when sitting next to the hearth of a roastingly hot fire). This weekend, spent in a glorious part of north Wales courtesy of B's grandpa who has the perfect ramshackle, floor-caving-in, open fire and lack of electric lighting, warren-like old cottage, was a fine opportunity to sport said look.
On people either skinnier or more confident about their inner thigh area than me, they also look good with a pair of skinny jeans tucked into them.
But reader, beware, wellies are not so good for climbing trees in, going to crowded places where stepping on someone's foot because you don't know where your shoe ends because you're wearing six pairs of socks, or teaming with the hideous 'new' trouser - the Hoolihan, which has the most unfortunate, yet surprisingly apt, name.

If I don't work out hwo to pay my rent fairly sharpish I may have to start selling off my beloved clothes. Buying new shoes is definitely a no-no, so it's a good thing wellies are long lasting as they may be the only thing I have left.

No comments:

Post a Comment