I guess I should start with an apology for being a bit rubbish with blogging last week: having only started Small Town Threads the week before with such gusto & high hopes of regular blogging, I found it had to take a back seat, mainly due to our new baby, Sylvie, our 8 week old mini schnauzer pup… but also because I hit a bit of a fashion-flat.

Having been exiled into a fashion wilderness all of my own making, I found that on emerging from this dark, dreary place I made some knee-jerk, reactive purchases recently which I’m not happy with.  I’d been reading some fashion & style blogs since last September and I think I got myself into a bit of a ‘must buy this, must buy that’ frenzy and forgot the all important rule of “will I wear it & does it suit my life?”

So, onto my bomber. There is nothing more I can tell you about the history of a bomber or souvenir jacket as well as Flic, over on Love a Good Stripe (if you haven’t read it, its a most fabulous blog): she covers it all.   And whats more, she’s a girl after my own heart: she admits to being a bit of a tomboy plus has a thing for menswear.  That could pretty much describe me…  However, unlike Flic, the bomber does not have my heart.

I’d seen the bomber cropping up everywhere, from blogs, to paps shots of models & celebs etc, and it made my heart tingle a little… made me hanker after my old cream (expensive) JIGSAW bomber from yester-year which I gave away to charity long, long ago (..why? Why did I do that??).  I was determined to get one.  I’d narrowed it down to these two:

Rather hastily, because I was in an actual Miss Selfridge shop and could actually (actually) walk out with a bomber in my hand, like… you know… there and then: I bought the Miss Selfridge one.

I imagined it would be great for puppy walks on the green at the back of my house, and even a bit waterproof perhaps during any April Showers;  also great for the afternoon school run, when everyone else is just in a long sleeved breton, but as I alway feel the chill, the bomber would be a perfect little throw on for me, right?

Wrong.  Since buying this jacket and bringing it home, I have only pulled it out of the bag once to show my partner.  He thinks it looks nice and that I should keep it “its just £39. you’d spend £20 on train fare or petrol if you wanted to return it”.

And that folks, is my problem.  He’s right… there’s no real financial point in returning the jacket which, when you haven’t got much of a budget is a real bummer.  However, my heart isn’t in it.  It doesn’t make me feel good… I feel like I am pretending to be a kid in it (though not as cool as the child Natalie Portman wearing a bomber as Mathilda in Leon: The Professional…), and then, of course, there’s no escaping that from behind I could be mistaken for a teen: a good thing? Not so much really, as on turning around, the truth would soon be seen: not a teenager AT. ALL., rather a near-geriatric old hag!

I have convinced myself that it is the style of the bomber that is the problem; I’m convinced that the Uniqlo jacket would have been more “me”.  Well, with sods law in mind, the time I have spent moping over my hasty purchase has meant the Uniqlo size xs has sold out.

*cue shrill screamy-shout of frustration at self round about now*

And the lessons learnt?  Remember who I am; remember what suits me; remember what suits my life and most importantly, remember I’m not a kid anymore!

I am still hoping to return the jacket if I pass by a Miss Selfridge in the next couple of weeks, even if I have to spend half the cost of the jacket on train fare… no point in keeping it if I’m not going to wear it: what do you think?

bomber on me