simple life

There are a couple of fashion-y things I need to resolve: an owl pendant who is currently one-eyed and a boot with a hole in the sole. But currently desire seems to be taking over necessity and whenever I have time to shop (which is rarely), I find myself scouring the shops looking for just one thing: the perfect top.

I know exactly what I want. It has to be cream; slightly pinkish or yellowish but not grey-ish and definitely not off-white. It has to be slightly sheer but not completely, and not silky and not jersey like a t-shirt and not starched like a shirt. It has to have sleeves; not capped short sleeves or off the shoulder but just gently puffed three quarter or all the way sleeves. It has to either have a waist emphasis or skim loosely over my body; none of that drawstring at the hips which makes me look heavily pregnant, please. And some nice embroidery or detailing of some sort would be nice, but nothing which makes it impossible to wash. Also, let it be cheap.

Not so difficult, right?

I thought I found the perfect one, but with its fitted waist a size 16 just didn't work.
Maybe if my fingers were less hopelessly undextrous with a sewing machine, I could let out the bottom of this:

A bit more sheer, dear:


Even in the summer I don't think it would be warm enough to go sleeveless. Speaking of which, how ridiculously disproportionate is the amount of sandals being sold/bought in the shops every year in the UK?



Nearly there, if I had a pair of high-waisted jeans to prevent crop-top territory:

Who knew such a simple desire could be so complicated?