An hour to kill tonight between work and dinner at Wagamama's with a colleague. What to do -- the gym or shopping? So, off to Amsterdam's ritziest fashion street, the PC Hoofstraat. This is home to all those stores that you never dare actually go inside, such as Valentino, Chanel, and Mulberry, as well as a remarkable number of brands that I've never heard of. I like to think of myself as reasonably fashion-aware, but McDonalds? Scapa of Scotland? It's all faux preppy middle-class clothing for people who want to look like they live in a Ralph Lauren ad without actually paying for, y'know, Ralph Lauren. Not my cup of tea at all. I did make it in to a couple of shops and even tried on an eye-wateringly expensive (in my book) ruffled satin dress in Laundry Industry, just for shits and giggles, but it made me look like I was wearing maternity clothing, so back on the rack it went.
In fact, the only thing I've seen recently that I am strangely drawn to is in the window of American Apparel on the Westerstraat. Every time I cycle past the shop, my eye is drawn to the mannequin wearing [gasp] GOLD LEGGINGS! Yes, shiny gold lame, full-length leggings. Intellectually, I know that these are quite ghastly. Wearing them, I wouldn't look like Shirley Eaton in Goldfinger, but more like a gilded sausage with VPL. They are so wrong in every way and yet I lust after them. I covet them. So shiny! I want gold!!
Thank goodness AA's always shut when I ride past.
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