BECKY ON: what not to wear

It's difficult to know what to wear for a night out these days.  Weekend wear used to consist of micro skirts resembling belts, a cleavage enhancing lycra top, wedges to rival stilts and enough eye-liner and lipstick to make Kiss weep in my shadow.

These days, all I really want is the previously mentioned CAT CARDIGAN. After my posting this afternoon, I briefly continued my quest to find a similar retailer online. I really want to find it cheaper, but more than that, I don't reeeeeally want to trek all the way to Spitalfields on Sunday with a hangover the size of Wales after my funky disco boat cruise.

However, (big sigh), I can't find it anywhere else.... which does prove that Spitalfields market is full of unique, glittering gems of goodness and, as demonstrated here, that the rest of the world is missing out. I'm not sure who actually wears these disturbing garments,... it's quite strange that there aren't many pictures of people dressed in them, just a bunch of sad, sagging, feline infested woolly numbers which, if they could speak, would surely plead for their own immeditate endings involving a creative arsonist, a large aerosol spray can and a box of matches.

Unless I drag my ass out of bed and head to the weekend market I will have to go another week not knowing what to match my new jeans and blue flat shiny shoes from Dotty P's with, and that would SUCK!!! Arrrrgh - QUANDARY. What's a girl to do?