Even stick insects drown

I don't know what Mother Nature's plan was when I was put on this planet but it certainly wasn't to be a shopper or even more, a clothes shopper.

First of all she gave me an hourglass figure 30 years after it had been in fashion while now it's all diaphanous, angular (as in bony) stick insect like figures. Clearly fashion is made for such shapes and those this way endowed enjoy flapping around like pretty, delicate butterflies where every fold of fabric falls neatly and elegantly into place.

To add insult to injury every time there is a revival it's for the fashion of the '80s, '70s, '90s or '60s but never , ever for the '40s and '50s which were truly the best years for fashion........ ever!.... if only because more suited to my bodyshape.

Then came the time of the overweight and obese which brought a plethora of tent like clothes made for big bums, big thighs, big tummies and ample chests but still no middle way. And really! whoever thought that stretch fabric looks good on you if you are overweight is seriously deranged.

And now this! An overload of shops and boutiques, crawling on top of each other, strangling each other like parasites, all the photocopy of the previous one but with more colours, with more bling, with more music but with still the same clothes and....very small people I tower over very easily.

And now the dilemma: on one side the big designers where a T-shirt will set you back a few hundred euros, on the other the cheap looking, cheaply made, cheaply designed underworld of teen fashion showing clothes that are more apt to mop the floors than to wear.

So once again I am back to square one even here, in shopper's paradise and it will take a little time to find the little golden shop where I always find the right thing.....(where are you Hobbs when I need you)?

Therefore I decide to feel good about myself and go and buy a book and just to be virtuous I have a lean, chicken and mango salad with an ice lemon tea, no sugar. Still, I cannot help feeling a bit cheated and mutter boils-forming-on-nose curses under my breath to counter all the "we don't have YOUR size madame".

It's pouring buckets and buckets again when I leave the Paragon shopping mall after lunch and this time I forgot my umbrella. I have no choice but to brave the downpour and run home. I am drenched beyond measure within 5 seconds but then so are all the tiny stick insects trying to escape the rain. The elegance is gone and so is the flutter of delicate wings. Only drowning bugs remain and I smile ruefully to myself.