Performing the gut wrenching task that is checking my online bank balance is a gentle reminder that I still fail to manage my money wisely.
If I were to trace this back I suppose I’d have to admit it all began when I submitted two successful applications for credit cards aged 18. As soon as the deadly pieces of plastic arrived I trotted straight off to Karen Millen, one of the few nice shops in my hometown of Southampton at the time, and purchased a pair of rather gaudy, cobalt blue heels with three oversized gems running down the centre strap.
I felt them a far wiser investment than, say, a few driving lessons. These shoes would surely turn me into Beyonce, thought I, as I popped in the PIN and watched the glistening purchase being carefully wrapped on the counter. It wasn’t till I got home I realised an ankle strap that wound right the way up your calf was only flattering to those blessed with endless legs and the shoes, in all their garish glory, enjoyed just the one outing when I briefly had an enviable tan and even then, they looked positively revolting.
The endless list of items I splurged on in my late teens includes but is not limited to: a pale pink logo emblazoned Dior purse (all the rage in the early noughties), a hideous collection of dresses cut to the navel (in homage to J.Lo’s Versace dress for the 2000 Grammys), an Evisu bag (couldn’t fit in their jeans), hair extensions, nail extensions, a guitar for my boyfriend at the time, a holiday, a kitten and several Brazilian waxes.
Since the glory days of seemingly free money I have reined it in bit…
