It is poetic licence, but I need some new trousers for Romantic Comedy. In the show I talk about the PVC ones I bought in my midlife goth crisis. And these are the ones I wear in the show.
Problem is, is that they’re falling apart. Quite literally ripping at the seams, and I’m not so sure that they’re going to last the full month run.
But I can’t fork out another £50 on a fresh pair. I’m too skint.
There is a slightly scary shop in Camden. It has loads of shelves brimmed full of second hand clothes.
But they don’t let you look. You head up the stairs and, like an internet search thingy you tell the people that are there what you’re after. Lot’s of back and forthing amongst “no, not quite like that” and “these are too big for me” if you’re lucky you might end up with something. So far I’d never been lucky.
I’m not very good when i t comes to being harrassed in shops, I panic and would often succumb to buying things I don’t want just to keep the shopkeeper happy and kept. But luckily, very often I physically don’t have the cash to pay for what I don’t want. So I don’t.
Though now I have my credit card I have to be carfeul. I can technically buy this shit. So I went with Dawn who was there to hold me back like a tiger.
I went upstairs and was greet by a sexy young girl in gothy punky cool clothes. I would succumb easily. I told her the kind of thing I was after. She went away and came back with some awful trousers that were far too small… I tried them on in their chaging room/toilet.
She went away and came back with some trousers seemingly made out of bing bags that were weird and baggy.
Dawn was looking bored.
She went and came back again…now with a pair of trousers that looked ok, and they kind of fi. But the fly zip was busted, so a bit pointless.
I, like Dawn was getting bored now. I thought I’d try my luck with these torusers. They were the Tiger Of London brand, these are about £30-£50 new, so I figured with them being second hand they’d be about £20 and with a busted zip I could hopefully get down to around a tenner. I asked how much they were. She said she didn’t know the big boss man fixes the prices.
So down we went. The big boss man who looks a bit like a Greek Jabba The Hut (there you go fact fans…that’s the first Star Wars reference on the entire website) put them in a plastic bag and said “These are £100 new, I give you for £55.”
What?
I’m not very good at haggling. I know how to. But dropping down to a ten pound asking price from £55 seemed a bit much. So I just stared and said they’re not worth £55.
“How much you offer?”
“Well, these are only about £50 new, so with a broken a zip… a tenner.”
“Now you insult me”
Oh God. To make matters worse, the sexy shop girl was looking at me and looking a bit scared. I think he employs lots of people on dodgy visas and only pays them comission, her eyes were really willing me to buy them. She looked like a nice girl. £55 for some shit shit trousers was ok if it saved her, despite the fact I was skint, wasn’t it?
Her eyes fixed mine. Just through eye contact she told me that the man beats her if people don’t buy over priced terrible clothes.
“£55 son, it a good offer”
“Um.” I felt a prod on my back. It was Dawn. Thank fuck. she said. “No, we’re going” and pushed me out of the shop.
As soon as I was outside and away from the beuatiful psiren I could see sense again.
But that was close.
Thanks Dawn.
Didn’t get any new trousers though…the ones in Edinburgh are just going to have to last.