Lovesick

It all started with a little faux-silk neckerchief. Such a small thing; less than half a metre tall and less than half a metre wide. Who knew such a teeny weeny item could have such a catastrophic impact on one teeny weeny girl's wardrobe?

You see, the piece in question is...leopard print. I spotted it while I was on holiday in South Africa. I don't know why I wanted it...I was about 13 and would never have even have thought about wearing it. But it appealed to me. Like a moth to a flame, if there's leopard print around I'm all over it.

I often get obsessional. At the moment it's Coffee light Frapuccinos from the soul-sucker that is Starbucks and, of course, houmous. But this leopard print fandango has lasted a fair few years now. Watching my collection grow is half exhilirating, half horrifying. The bigger the collection, the bigger the obsession.

Here's but a portion of it:

(Vintage shirt, vintage blouse, primark scarf, H&M wedges, primark slippers, neckerchief from South Africa, vintage maxi skirt, vintage jumper, House of Fraser [sale] duvet cover)

Before, leopard print was almost a sensible obsession. Leopard print items often come up pretty cheap given the severe risk of looking like Eastenders' Kat Slater circa 2001. But recently, leopard print has become 'high fashion'. Shit. This means that a) the price of leopard smothered garments has soared, and b) I can crave a selection of deliciously decorated items that there is no way on this earth I will ever be able to afford. Case in point:

This silk Lanvin jumpsuit. My heart would happily jump out of my skin for it. Unfortunately, it costs over £2000. Wahhhh.

For my own sanity/bank balance, all I can hope is that this unhealthily greedy Leopard crush ends sometime soon. But I'm not counting on it.