I don’t need drugs when I can shop. Even if I’m lying on a hospital bed, I’d rather get on a wheelchair and wheel my pathetic self into a shopping gallery than lie there like a vegetable being drip-fed morphine.

So… -twiddles thumbs in awkward silence-
You see, the thing here is, I’m a spendthrift. And I’m not just saying this as a joke. I’m typing this out as I would come clean at confession, or at an alcohol rehab group session. Indeed, this is serious shizzle.

I haven’t blogged very much or made very much in the kitchen lately because yes - the same ol boring reason - I’m busy working and yes, I’m busy spending all that hard-earned cash away. There’s just something about being in a tiny city that drains your cash away and mentally, I WANT to drain that money out of myself. It’s ridiculous. Material girl, you say? Totally! Kiwi bird? Not quite as I’m not really into bling but gosh, if it’s something in my style, I totally gotta have it. And I’ll spend days, hours (maybe even weeks if I’m unfortunate to wait that long) obsessing about it to no end.

It sorta goes like this (well, my spending philosophy) — money ain’t that pretty but what money can buy, is pretty damn pretty.

Adverts work on me. Flash me one, and it’ll work like banana bread (the way it tempts me, it’s like drawing Diva to real good freshly baked banana bread or getting my cocker spaniel Fifi to do a roll for a doggie treat - I will beg). Normally, the situation is one where I’m completely broke because I’ve splashed out to extremities on beauty products (blame my Gramma for my fascination with tiny pots of wonder potions), shoes and alcohol, oh yes and a lot of fruit.

This time round, far from the land of cheap booze, I splash out weekly in ridiculous amounts on cosmetics (I’ve trimmed back on beauty products as I’m just trying to use up everything I’ve got now — besides, too much of something is never good for you), still shoes no doubt about it and clothes. The heat mucks me about and the first thing I think of is, new clothes - I gotta have new stuff to put on me that don’t make me think I’m still in England waiting to welcome my favourite Autumn season. Why cosmetics? Well, everything is cheaper here so why not! And MAC keeps releasing these awesome collections week after week and of course, I patiently wait for a specific collection to be released here (takes about a few weeks after England), reserve the specific item, hop to the store (like I said, I work in town — it’s just next door, it’s bloody temptation I tell you!) and end up spending more than I bargained for because of these crazy sales, promotions and special packages. It’s gay!

Now we come to the next point of discussion - shoes. I gotta have ‘em. I can’t live without shoes. If I’m not in well-made or good-looking enough shoes, I’m plagued by odd withdrawal symptoms. Guys, you may or may not get this, but it’s all true. I find myself twiddling my thumbs and pulling at my fingers (a very strange habit) if I’m not in heels or if I’m not one up taller than the people around me. Maybe it’s a vertically challenged sorta thing but I ain’t short. I just take pride in dressing up what happens to lie South as well as what lies North, I suppose? It completes me…dammit it does. And there’s something about the way shoes look that strikes such a chord in my heart. Just this month, I’ve purchased 4 pairs of shoes and thrown out 2. Not cool.

Dee from ChoosandChews told me to go ahead and splash out on a pair of Choos. I have been planning to get my first pair at 21 and then work my way up my favourite designers with a time break of 2 years in between — it’s a recovery period because, like I said, I splash out almost every week on things I need, don’t need, want, think I kinda want, etc. It’s insane. I must be the most un-environmental friendly person even if I recycle and reuse just cause I consume (not just in terms of food) so ridiculously much. I haven’t exactly gotten a pair of Choos but I’ve just rewarded myself this morning with a new pair of shoes from 9West. A pair of black lace-up Oxford booties with a 4 inch heel. OH JOY! The world’s all spinning round right again and I see the light.

My sister’s sat at Marmalade Pantry with her gal pals right now, a few metres away from where I’m sat at in my candle shop and we’re both mulling over how we are so cash-strapped. Attempting to plan a much-needed holiday to somewhere close - Taiwan, is so very difficult when you’re like us. And we’re not spoilt rich kids or mathematically-disinclined airheads. Also, I do feel oppressive guilt from having to leech on my parents, especially my Dad. Right now, I gotta work my problem-solving and cash-saving skills as best as I can if we intend to get our arses out of the town for a 5D4N trip to consumer-land aka Taipei. But what am I to do when I’ve just spent on a pair of shoes, am currently saving up to purchase a Vivienne Westwood necklace (next up I’ll get the bloody Vivienne Westwood Ebury bag - this woman’s my true love I tell you) and have to have something to fund my mother’s birthday!!! Independence - you crave it and find it so hard to achieve financial independence.

With all this on my mind - I know it’s not a reason to stop me from foodifying my life - but it’s terribly distracting. So I hope I haven’t lost my fellow readers and by golly, I pray not with this awful rant. If you’re wondering what’s with the post picture, it’s work from photographer Paco Peregrin inspired by Aya Kato. Aya Kato is a genius. I recently bought a gelaskin for my Macbook with Kato’s illustration. Very swanky. And yes, I know, very much a part of consumerism. Gee. And also very much like me - just gotta have every damn thing around me: line, curves, colour, vintage, frills, goth, etc. A conglomoration of everything I adore.