As a twenty something individual living in London you often find yourself living a highly intricately woven fabrication, your outfits telling one story whilst your empty fridge, not to mention stomach is screaming another. You're forced to adopt the mantra of 'nothing tastes as good as skinny feels' because it's the only way to make your bank balance smile, okay maybe not smile, perhaps it was just the flicker of a grin or was it a grimace? Best not to look too closely. Either way it was a brief acknowledgement of your bid to survive another week in the big smoke. Well done wonderfully accessorised, hungry, you. As a close, equally impoverished, friend once said to me " it's one thing to be poor, it's another thing to look poor!" There's just one glaring, red signal alert, alarm bells ringing problem. I DON'T WANT TO STARVE! I know, I know I'm not writing this article from an LEDC (lesser economically developed country)...That what you just read there was some political correctness but I fear I'm the one going mad and in light of that madness a couple of weeks ago I decided to download season two of The Great British Sewing Bee. I was sitting in the pub across the road from my house whilst surreptitiously squeezing out every drop of their free wifi, having only ordered a lime and soda for 50p... That's right in these tight economic times my housemate and I decided we could live without broadband ... we we're WRONG.
So I trundled back to our house, happy with my newly acquired treasure. Having missed series one of The Great British Sewing Bee I was unaware of the delight or should I say 'the light' of realisation that came my way. People picking out pretty materials, performing (what in edit at least) seemed like a really very simple spot of sorcery and hey presto -FREE clothes. I had found the answer ... now I could fill my fridge! ... Sod filling the fridge! I could buy Tesco they have a whole refrigerated aisle!
I decided to pay slightly closer attention to the spells and charms used to put these garments together. I had once been awarded a GCSE in Textiles for Christ's sake, I could certainly master this magic. .. That's when my beautifully fabricated dream hit a snag, one that all the cross stitching in the world wouldn't buy me - a Sewing Machine. So I carefully unpicked my loosely woven fantasy, opened the fridge (for some extra light) and crest fallen watched the rest of the episode. All the while concocting a new plot to ambush presenter Claudia Winkleman, steal her job and fill my fridge! ... Sod filling the fridge! On a presenters wage I could buy Waitrose they have a whole refrigerated wing!
So I trundled back to our house, happy with my newly acquired treasure. Having missed series one of The Great British Sewing Bee I was unaware of the delight or should I say 'the light' of realisation that came my way. People picking out pretty materials, performing (what in edit at least) seemed like a really very simple spot of sorcery and hey presto -FREE clothes. I had found the answer ... now I could fill my fridge! ... Sod filling the fridge! I could buy Tesco they have a whole refrigerated aisle!
I decided to pay slightly closer attention to the spells and charms used to put these garments together. I had once been awarded a GCSE in Textiles for Christ's sake, I could certainly master this magic. .. That's when my beautifully fabricated dream hit a snag, one that all the cross stitching in the world wouldn't buy me - a Sewing Machine. So I carefully unpicked my loosely woven fantasy, opened the fridge (for some extra light) and crest fallen watched the rest of the episode. All the while concocting a new plot to ambush presenter Claudia Winkleman, steal her job and fill my fridge! ... Sod filling the fridge! On a presenters wage I could buy Waitrose they have a whole refrigerated wing!