That’s the message I sent to Marmalade this morning
I had put money into her bank account for such a thing.
She said it was the best birthday message ever.
That’s why I love her.
It’s that Libra time of year and I am now an actual old age pensioner. I know it should have happened six years ago, but now it has. My overriding thought is that it’s about time…….you bastards.
As I’ve mentioned before, self gifting is a favourite pastime of mine. I really know what I like, and although I’ve had a lot of practice throughout the year I have taken it up a gear to celebrate my birthday. Everywhere is a shopping opportunity, high streets, charity shops, museums, the sofa…..and I can find good reason, sometimes tenuous admittedly, most of the time.
Today Saucy and I met up down Portobello with Lobster and Cornflake. I swear regularly that I will not buy anymore fabric. Everyone nods encouragingly but we all know that it’s unrealistic given that I’m, well, that I’m me. We popped into The Cloth Shop. I bought fabric and trim for a shirt dress (so shoot me) but because it’s my birthday week, Saucy bought half of it. Lovely.
A little further down the road we found the perfect top for Saucy to wear to her birthday party in December. She bought it, I paid half. I can see that you may be thinking that we could just have bought our own stuff
Where’s the fun in that?
Lobster participated in the joy, I gave her a gift bought a while back for no reason other than that she’s Canadian, she bought me a ring to go with a necklace I self gifted to wear with an outfit already sorted for a Christmas do. It was all very edifying.
I may need to re visit the title of this post. Buy your own gift bitch or Go buying gifts in a bitch gift buying gang.
Either works.
fat tart 