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NOMA t.d: The more you spend the worse you feel

It’s the 18th of the month and I haven’t yet dropped half my salary on clothes. This is progress. Normally by now there’d be something with ‘still with tags’ hanging over the back of a chair in the spare room.

But it’s the age-old problem: I’m at war with myself. One minute I’m guilt-ridden about owning more clothes than I can conceivably wear. The next I’m starring down the barrel of a new Margaret Howell tank-top, convinced that continuing without it would be next to impossible.

I know I’ve made light of this kind of thing on here many times before. It’s just that right now, as I sit typing, I’m genuinely feeling exhausted by it all.

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