Shall I ...
... go all girlie in silver Christmas tree earrings, flowery sundress, and Audrey Hepburnesque red shoes?
... defy all sartorial logic in an unseasonal White lace kebaya-inspired top, a black latex singlet, black skinnies I got from the Bercham market and red shoes?
...or channel Katy Perry in RM3 Esprit factory overrun shorts, black Pack Promod singlet & RM10 Thailand black knit top
Ah. Which girl isn't clothes mad?
Mixing and matching is more than just riding the residual buzz of retail therapy; it's the whole theatricality of the act, like orchestrating my own boutique theatre production.
I love the heightened drama as I clack out of the house in my three-inch heels; the contagious playfulness that colours my mood when I flounce out in my riotous bohemian skirt; garments are not just something to shield me from cold or immodesty, don't you see?
When I was a kid, I practically gobbled up fashion magazines.
Many an afternoon was spent, bent over the fashion pages, while my fingers lovingly traced the clean lines of a box-like shift while the mind marvelled at the fluidity of jersey wrap dresses.
So much so, I became extraordinarily well acquainted with fashion parlance.
I could recite from memory the subtle differences between silk brocade and silk jacquard.
I could reel off the entire spectrum of hues (crimson, fuschia, magenta, vermillion, scarlet ....) with such authority my science teaccher would surely beam with pride.
I was, and still am, a clothes fiend to a T (... or should it be T-shirt? :))
Ergo, what assignment could be more fun than traipsing through the yummiest fashion boutiques ever invented? :)