So, I went to the Trafford Centre last night. The boyfriend is going on a big night out and wanted to get himself some nice from Ralph Lauren (brand drop) and so as I knew we would be walking around for a while, I wore trainers high heels. Smart idea.
I looked fabulous for the first 10-12 minutes.
Then apparently hobbling around isn't cool. Who knew?
And when the bf turned to me, looked at my feet and recoiled in horror, whilst saying, "It looks like your feet are bleeding." (they weren't, he was exagerating) I thought it would be best to put my suffering to an end and buy some flats. And I figured Primark was my best bet, some quick cheap shoes to ease my aching toes.
Little did I know, Primark played that age old trick of talking clothes.
You know what I mean, girls.
Talking clothes.
Hey. Hey you.
What is that? Who is talking to me?
Hey you, look over here. Look at me.
Huh? Is that dress talking to me?
Yeah. I am. And guess what, I'm only £13. Buy me. You know you want to.
No, I'm here for shoes, leave me alone. You're distracting me.
But wouldn't I look nice with those shoes?
Or wedges?
A nice statement necklace?
You're right. And I guess you're only £13... and the shoes are only £6.
Buy the tshirt as well. It looks so comfy. Go on, treat yourself.
Sound familiar?
This is exactly what happened to me in Primark last night.
I wish I regretted it, even just a little bit!
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