Sometimes in life you get ripped off. You know the dress is overpriced and the mark up is extortionate. You know the boutique owner has 3 European holiday houses and is sending her boys to Eton because you pay for her dresses at prices ATI (according to the idiot).
At the time of purchase you are very aware of all of this; however, you somehow seem compelled to make the transaction. Some type of "must have" adrenaline is pumped through your veins and you seem to believe that this particular dress may just change your life. Dramatic and some what extreme I know.
You fight London Transport; holding ever so tightly the bag, your clutch and your travel card. You whip the dress out of its tissue paper, you place it on the best hanger you own and you wait. You wait for an occasion special enough to bust it out, merchandise it up and reveal its greatness to the world.
On rare occasions your special dress may disappoint (if within 28 days I suggest using your return policy); however, yesterday was not one of those days. Yesterday, I donned my ludicrously overpriced Circa Vintage dress and its greatness was finally admired. There was no disappointment here; 11/10 for wearer satisfaction, both the dress and I felt simply lovely and enjoyed yet another a glorious British summer day out.