On Saturday afternoon I ended up spending three hours in a bar watching a football match with the boy (read: eating an oversized combo-platter full of carb-a-licious deep fried goodness and drinking too many bottles of tequila beer). Afterwards, both tipsy and after spending too much time in a testosterone filled environment I dragged him to Topshop to restore some balance to our lives.
Spurred on by a weeks worth of calories in one sitting and more beers than I dared to count we ended up going a little wild; a leather tee, blazer, jeans, trousers, jumpers and a few very pretty little tops he steered me in the direction of the till before I could even start on the shoe section. And then I see these beauties. £55 worth of joy.
The snakeskin finish and gold details have me all hot and bothered. I NEED these in my life.
All of these amazing new season releases are too much for a weak fashion-fiend, and after reluctantly checking my current account with one eye closed this morning, are too much for my bank balance too.