The one in which I decide my look

Francoise Hardy, the French Sixties songstress and pretty much my hero (this week), she manages to project an image that is beyond sexy without ever being pictured on all fours daubed in fake tan; she was hardly ever seen out of a roll-neck jumper. So this winter, I cant believe I'm planning this when summer has not yet graced our shores, I am only going to buy something that is black, leather or could be seen as horse riding apparel eg. jodhpurs and riding boots. I'm thinking Francoise Hardy crossed with Astrid Kirchherr, the photographer of the "savage" Beatles, a woman who was rarely seen out of a ebony outfit. Is the look for me ...

Being a sickly child I often stay at home sipping chicken soup while I watch a film and I have decided that there's something about the way women shop in films that's really pukey it has a dream like quality (Clueless excluded, of course), or perhaps I just can't identify with them because I shop in a cold and calculated way. Usually I know what sort of thing I want and can dash around a shop floor like the Terminator closing in on his prey. Unless it's a vintage shop, in which case I always end up asking them to turn the music down and emerge looking like 1969 threw up on me.

I have got to the age where I have decided to stop shopping in budget high street stores and invest in key items that will last the test in time, so I think it is important to decide on a style and become an efficient shopper. Oh my mother will be pleased to hear that as she will never again have to console me whenever she scours though the fleshly laundered clothes to find my favourite cheap dress shrunken, ripped or ruined. Oxfam is now going to be stocked full of my old clothes the "old" me, well you have to help charities. Bring on Six form and my goth tendencies x