Editor note: Don’t call it a comeback. She is back. Miss C. L. Haden, the best English import since Spice World. We are lucky enough to get to read more from her. I think a lot of people can relate to this story. You can find her here.  She is the best. Here we go.

I decided to go shopping the other day; it’s a very rare thing for me…. I usually shop online.  I have to say I love internet shopping because I can social network at the same time, I’m not talking about tweeting your latest shoes or how your ass looks in those jeans, but you can actually properly multi task in my case; work and shop! There’s a whole number of reasons why I shop on line and my little outing the other dayto the shopping centre, reminded me even more why internet shopping is definitely Flashion!

So there I am, on a cold and rainy day (typical England) with last season’s look plastered to my wet skin, matted hair, mascara smudged and frankly the small insect like dogsheltering in the door way looked in better condition than me! Now shopping is not really my thing, as it involves dealing with “I want, and I’ll kill anyone who stops me”kind of people. But I thought I was becoming a bit anaemic from lack of day light so I thought I’d venture into reality (god forbid) The rain continued to show it’s love for me ,therefore I was desperate to get out of the rain so I picked a random clothing shop that looked warm. I didn’t pay much attention to the actual shop, I just wanted some warmth and maybe the assistants would take pity on me and just maybe give me free jeans…. (You never know, one must try)

So I stumbled into the shop, mud on the backs of my trousers, smelling like wet dog and trying to smooth the creases out of my coat. You know when you get that feeling when someone’s looking at you? Well I looked up to see a woman with a disgusted look on her face. Tall and thin with a sheik bob and the latest seasons must have’s, she looked at me with utter contempt before announcing like a loud speaker “can I help you madam?” Her eyes pleaded with me to leave the shop; after all I guess riff raff shouldn’t be seen in such a place, what would their competitors say???

I took a look at my surroundings and realised it wasn’t just a normal shop I was in, it was a shop where I would of had to re-mortgage the house I don’t have… I looked down at my wet shoes; I’d practically left a trail of ‘sog’ behind me. I was always warned about these kinds of shops, you know the kind? Those ones where the assistants only drink extra anorexic café lattes and would flinch in horror if you handed them anything less than £50 notes as anything else was considered ‘change’. So, I stood my ground, I was just like any other shopper I deserved to be in this shop – I knew I couldn’t buy anything but hey a little look wouldn’t hurt…

Slowly walking around the shop, I browsed the silk shirts, I daren’t pick them up, just in case the assistant who was blatantly stalking me; keeled over. I pottered about the shoes, and found a pair I really liked. Picking them up, I began to indulge in the dream they were selling me – fancy wine bars, plush trips to Paris and my fancy boyfriend who spoke 3 languages… Then a lady tapped rudely on my shoulderinterrupting my creative process, and loudly boomed “are you going to buy that madam?”

It felt like the whole shop looked at me, even the clothes themselves, looking at my muddy trousers and pitying my matted hair. I had to get out. I had to get out fast!

I bought the most wonderful pair of shoes today, and the great thing was, I only had to give up my weekly intake of pastries. I sat in my PJ’s, no makeup on, looking like I’d been dragged through a bush backwards… But the mouse didn’t judge me, I clicked the checkout button and that didn’tjudge me either

… instead it said ‘Thank you, please come again’



Editor Note: If anyone reading this ever wants to  show of shoes or know how their ass looks in jeans send it to Chief@theflashion.com or @theflashion.