Jess’s new favourite thing to do is see how underdressed I can be for a basic trip to Woolies. About six months ago I moved to a new house that is less than a 5 minute walk to our neighbourhood shopping centre. It’s amazing. When I decide I want a footlong cardboard vegie patty Subway, or a creamy rockmelon juice, or maybe some novelty children’s stationery from K-Mart, I just need to walk 200 metres and the retail world is pretty much my oyster.
The thing is, it’s so easy to get there and back that it hardly seems worth bitching yourself up for nothing. It’s not like when I was younger and my local shopping centre was Bondi Junction and in order not to anger the Evil Ghouls of Westfield Both Past and Present, I had to put on nice shoes without holes in the bottom, and lip balm, and maybe a top that showed lots of cleave.
But now that I live in the Marrickville precinct, things changed. There are so many trendy hipster bitches around me that my fashion choices look ironic and hilarious.
A knitted beret with clumps of hair sticking out of the holes? A comment on gaps in the Medicare safety net.
Old saggy waterproof tracksuit pants? A feminist statement about the importance of gender neutrality.
A mustard coloured oversize woollen jumper that I’ve been wearing all weekend and am still wearing right now, that has a big chunk of toothpaste on it? Well…that’s just feral I guess.