Predictable, really

The bargain-priced, smudge-proof L'Oreal mascara I reported on so eagerly yesterday proved to be neither a bargain nor smudge-proof. I got home from the tango ball at 12.30 this morning looking like this, only not so cute and furry. The question is, how long had I been looking like that on the dancefloor?

Save! Save! Save!

In case there was any doubt, I hereby freely declare myself a puppet of multinational capitalist/consumer forces. On Wednesday out of the paper fell one of those ugly pamphlets advertising a fragrance and cosmetics sale. UP TO 80% OFF! and IMPORTERS CLEARANCE!, it screamed, too excited to worry about apostrophes. WHY PAY MORE? Why indeed? So off I went to town.
No point searching for metered parking the week before Christmas, so I drove into a parking building and took the lift down to the street.
The pavement outside the temporary premises (recently vacated, I was sad to discover, by one of the last city dress fabric shops) was clogged with customers and security men. Just inside the door, we were separated from our bags, and invited to take up a plastic bucket. I declined, not without a sniff of disdain. I had come here for one thing and one thing only. I had no intention of joining the lines of fervent women, and not a few men, edging past the trestle tables, inspecting every bottle, jar and tube, and slipping favoured items into their buckets. I would make a lightning strike and be out within minutes.
It took 30 seconds to locate where my perfume would be waiting for me. Another five for the helpful university student-assistant on the other side of the table to tell me it had long since sold out.
Motivated by what I see now was a vague but misplaced refusal to be beaten, I made a quick tour of the other tables, picking up a L'Oreal lipstick (excellent value at $9) and smudge-proof mascara (ditto at $7).
After queuing for the checkout and reclaiming my bag, I went across the road to Kimberley's. After a quick flick of the racks I was sensibly on my way out when I noticed a useful, summery swing t-shirt reduced from $69 to $48. Done.
Next, I nipped down to Kirks to pick up sheer black footless tights - $18.99 and not on sale - to wear to the Christmas tango ball tonight. I was back at my car within the hour, so only had to hand over $4.
The upshot of this failed mission to buy perfume for $40 less than usual? A total spend of $87. 

Wedding wear

My son and his fiancee are getting married in October in Kunming, and, as luck would have it, the day J told me was also the day I bought a wondrously elegant black (yes, black again - and raspberries to you, Trinny and Susannah) Karen Walker dress. Second-hand of course. From Soup, off Courtenay Place.

This second-hand bent seems the most obvious point of difference between Plain Jane and The Thoughtful Dresser. Linda Grant has the means, opportunity and - just as importantly - the will to spend big money on fashion (and I use the term broadly to cover anything appearance-related rather than merely what's hot). Please understand this is no judgment on her character: I'm very well aware how relative these things are, and to a person living with several kids on a benefit in South Auckland, let alone in a third-world country, the amount I spend would be just as unimagineable. So there'll be no fingers pointed from this corner.

I don't have huge amounts of money, and the disposable income I do have must also stretch to tango-related expenses, travel and the usual books-movies-and-eating-out items. Plus, and this is crucial - I love a bargain. Love locating it and seeing how it looks on, and walking out of the shop feeling lucky to have got there first.

So back to the Karen Walker dress. The photograph I took doesn't do it justice. It's an elegant column of heavy crepe-like fabric (the care label has been cut off so I don't know exactly what it is, but it's certainly man-made). Sleeveless, with a high cross-over neck, discreetly asymmetrical with a side split. Cheong-sam inspired, in other words. A definite for the right tango occasion, and in style, if not in colour, surely perfect for a Chinese wedding. I asked J to check with S if black was acceptable wedding wear. And I could cheer it up by wearing red shoes and my flashy little red velvet jacket from Sydney. Which the afore-mentioned Trinny and Susannah would regard as the last straw. Under no circumstances will there be a hat.