I was lying in bed at 4 in the morning, fretting about this and that, when I started thinking about clothes. Isn’t it weird how significant clothes are? Even clothes you’ve never worn, never even touched. Like – I just have to THINK about Richard Gere’s cheesy white suit (and cap) in ‘An Officer and a Gentleman’ and I feel this sexy frisson. And thinking about Richard Gere himself doesn’t do it. It’s the suit. And then there’s the lovely coffee-coloured dress (with tight belt) that Julia Roberts wears to the races in ‘Pretty Woman’. I loved that. I kept meaning to buy one like it, but never did, and now it’s almost as if I did anyway, I feel such affection and nostalgia. And I saw ‘Priceless’ last night, with Audrey Tatou in it, and that film is, really, about clothes. Not that any stick out particularly (though the evening dresses are amazing – though they wouldn’t suit me. They’re for very slim women with tiny tits.) It’s just that you find yourself looking eagerly at the clothes, not the people. They’re really NEW clothes, too: there are lots of shots of people snipping tags off them.
Anyhoo, Jasmine wants me to go to her place tonight to ‘meet someone that she knows I’ll like’ so I’ve been running over my clothes in my head. Pity I can’t buy new ones…
