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F/CE: the only blips of real joy

Is it Christmas yet? Has it already happened? Did I get anything good? When every day’s the same it’s difficult to keep track. Wake up too early; coffee; smoke; laptop; sandwich; laptop; Six O’Clock News; TV; bed; repeat. Could Daedalus himself design an ordeal more wretched?

My spine is now ossified into the curve of the sofa. My eyes are dry and itchy. I begin every day with a heaving sigh. What shall I have for breakfast? Toast with peanut butter. Or jam? Or marmalade? The unyielding banality of it all.

Interesting clothes offer the only blips of real joy. Exciting and weird stuff, glimpsed via distant websites. But even then there’s just a fleeting moment to covert, before the crushing truth of our circumstance surfaces once more. No one’s going anywhere. No one’s seeing anyone. Socialising, the fundamental catalyst for the clothes game, is cancelled.

This F/CE top is a perfect example. I can peer at it over on Japan’s Root Store. And doubtless, if I could dig up 24,000 Yen, I could buy it. But what then? Wear it for a Zoom call? Yank it on for socially distanced dash up Asda’s aisles? Hardly the platforms a grail like this deserves.

It is a sweet piece though. Apparently it’s made of stretchy corduroy, which, let’s be honest, sounds diabolical. Although under the current circumstances, I’d take the peculiar pleasures of stretchy corduroy over another episode of Garden Rescue in a heartbeat.

I do admire the autumnal colour palette on this one. That I can still feel something, when presented with powdery blue and deep chocolate in close proximity, is one of the few things keeping me going.

Course, I shouldn’t moan. There’s only so much self-indulgence you can dribble onto a page before you sound like a perfect twat. I’m not a front-line worker. I’m not struggling for work, or money, or company. That I could drop 175 quid on a stretchy corduroy top without any hardship makes me one of the lucky ones.

Still, as another weekend seems to pass in the blink of an eye, and another week of dark days, belting rain and Zoom meetings beckons, the harmfulness of monotony has never seemed clearer.

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