Nice dress

Changing rooms in high street stores are shit.

They fall, broadly, into two categories: the Topshop type, boiling hot, with those little size cubes all over the dusty floor and a sales assistant who insists that anyone who accompanies you must themselves be carrying a Size 6 peplum skirt and a Size 18 poncho and the more upmarket type, à la Jigsaw, where sure, your boyfriend can sit on a comfortable chaise longue right outside, but the sales assistant is constantly flitting back and forth and no sooner would you have invited him in for a quick blow job in front of the mirror than she’d stick her head round the curtain to ask: ‘Did you see we have it in pink, too?’

It’s a shame, because boys give the best compliments on new clothes.

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