The suit saga continues.

If, as I trust, you are an avid blog reader, you will be aware of my recent entry regarding my search for a suit. For this coming Monday morning, for one of my nerdy ventures, I need to have a suit jacket, skirt and court shoes. Naturally, I already owned court shoes, although they did need replacing recently following the timely death of a much-loved pair. However I did not know where to start for the rest of a suit, so, as detailed in the aforementioned blog entry, I started in Southland, and tried on countless suits, none of which were an adequate fit. Eventually I found a skirt that was of reasonable dimensions, only to find that I forgot my purse so could not buy the overpriced skirt in question. I then managed to find a separate jacket, in every size except mine.

I succeeded in obtaining the skirt the next day by sending my mother with money and detailed instructions: walk through the doors, past the cinema, past the ice cream shop, near the shoe shop, there is a shop with a big poster of a skank on it, go in there, seek out a skank and hand her the piece of paper with that design's name and barcode written on it. Unfortunately, my mother accidentally handed the shop assistant the piece of paper with the instructions on it, as insulting as they were. End result, I have the skirt.

Next, the jacket. I managed to obtain the exact jacket, in my size, from a chain store which was fortunately not too far away. Unfortunately, last night I decided to try the skirt, jacket, shoes and a shirt on to see if it all fits and goes together. Not only does it slightly look funny, but much to my horror, I found that the jacket still had a security tag attached, which I cannot remove myself without irreparably damaging the garment. As luck would have it, I had just removed the label seconds before, and disgustingly had to go through my bin to find the receipt. My only option is to go back to the store, how I intend to find time for this is still somewhat of a mystery, and ask them to remove it, and endure their suspicions that I've stolen it. Although maybe they will realise I haven't, because nobody would steal a jacket that ugly. Then again, who would pay for the privilege of wearing it either!

As much as I thought it impossible, it seems that purchasing a suit (or 'stealing' one, as the case may be) takes all the fun out of shopping.