The Grey Lady
Last night as I got ready for bed I opened my wardrobe to stroke my clothes and was hit by a sudden, hideous realisation. It was this: almost everything I have bought in the past couple of months… is grey.
Things I Have Bought That Are Grey
- Vest top
- Pyjamas. FREAKIN’ GREY PYJAMAS, PEOPLE!
They join a couple of things I already own that are also grey, namely:
- Grey dress
- Grey underwear. (Technically a mistake. Wash whites separately, kids.)
Also: the dress I am currently coveting that I would totally have bought if they’d just had it in my size? Is grey.
WHY? Why have I done this to myself? I really don’t understand it, because my favourite color? Is green. And OK, there’s not a whole lot of green in the shops at the moment but DID YOU HAVE TO BUY SO MUCH GREY INSTEAD, AMBER? DID YOU?! Actually, I don’t think I even like grey. Except my new grey skinnies, obviously. They rawk. But still: why so grey, I wonder? Am not happy. Especially given that I’ve spent all my money now, so it’s not like I can go out and buy more things, that aren’t grey. And I can’t take the grey stuff back either because, well, I kind of already wore it all. I appear to have been building my collection for quite some time now.
No, it looks like I am destined to walk through the winter like some creeping grey thing, and I have no one to blame but myself. That I write about fashion for a living just makes it all the more embarrassing. “Fashion writer in ‘no longer allowed to go shopping alone!’ scandal”. “Woman swallowed whole by mountain of grey clothes!” “Amber is a total freaking idiot! And also: poor!” Gah.
Grey is the new black, folks. You heard it here first.