Today I went to the market stall in Bethnal Green that I love so hard (they sell old-season stock from All Saints from time to time, which I invariably buy up), and I ended up buying a salmon slip dress, a grey sweater with a pussy bow and a powder-blue one-shoudered top with a Goddamn frill. Holy fuck, what is happening to me? Am I just producing a lot of estrogen at the moment, or what? Have my ovaries suddenly swollen up like tonsilitis glands? I mean admittedly, I've always favoured a mini over trousers, and when I'm not in leather and uniform black t-shirts I do enjoy wearing fur coats and stockings and very high heels and all that bullshit, but I'd always thought of the style of femininity that I am occasionally seduced by as "drunk society girl circa 1969", rather than (God forbid!) that of a Cosmopolitan-clutching, hunk-baiting "Scary Sadshaw" type. In my defense, the items in question were three quid apiece, but the fact still remains - I think I might finally be becoming a woman, and I don't mean that in the euphemistic way that they use it in Young Adult fantasy novels (that ship left the harbour some time ago).
(I should probably let you know that I am really into the idea of sending and recieving parcels right now (Parcelforce is the only thing I will stagger out of bed for with a hangover), so if anyone wants to indulge me in that, holla.)