I have a confession to make. On Boxing Day night the news featured a story about all the bargain hunting Belfastians out shopping immediately after Christmas. No sooner had I finished one of my tried and tested rants about how Northern Ireland people are shopping mad when the phone rang. It was my sister-in-law Judith phoning to kindly invite me to go along to the Next sale with her. What to do, what to do??
Now, Judith has a lovely little baby (pictured above) who grows out of clothes like nobody's business so she was frequenting the sale with the noble intention of getting some new duds for Dan at dramatically reduced prices. Fair enough. As for me? I hummed and hawed only a little bit before agreeing to go along under the guise of 'seeing what it's like.' Perhaps I have omitted a crucially damning detail that will reveal precisely why I come to the blog confessing my consumerism; the fact is folks, that the Next sale started at 4am!!
When Judy and I arrived just after 6am (you're ashamed of me aren't you?) believe it or not the selection was picked over. Well, despite my moral ambiguity over the whole thing, I emerged bleary eyed and still half asleep with a big bag of items. As the fitting rooms are closed the strategy (I was briefed beforehand) was to buy anything that I might like/that might fit and then return a whack of the items a few days later. When all the dust had settled, I have to say that I did get a few (okay, maybe a couple more than a few) really cute tops for work at some really good prices (as in 50-70% off - I mean come on people!) Pray for me.