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franceslievensWhen your significant other half suddenly feels the urge to go shopping, you don't say no. He even made a fuss about not wanting to rush the experience. So off we went to a nearby outlet village. Even though there's a similar village in Belgium, I've never been there. I don't drive 2 hours to go shopping when Brussels has its very own chain of outlet shops.
When confronted with the little houses, tidy streets and shopping Brits, I know why I don't usually go to these kind of places: It's the shopper's Disneyland. The whole entourage is fake and probably dead at night. But the clothes are real, as are the discounts.
So I gawked at everything, tried on several pairs of jeans, to find none that fit*, and went home with a lovely Puma track jacket. I've been lusting after this kind of jacket for ages, never buying it because they're too expensive. I looked so wonderful in it that I feel less bad about turning thirty in two days. P. found himself a pair of jeans that fit, but of course were too long for Mr. Short-Legs. Little Bit was the luckiest. We bought everything we liked at Petit Bateau: two pairs of trousers and a shirt. I love the clothes by Petit Bateau, but they're quite expensive, so finding them at a discount price was wonderful.
Not all Oxford days are this full. Yesterday was spent indoors because of the rain. I took Little Bit for a walk in the sling. She kind of hangs out of it for most of the time, and cuddles right up to me when she starts getting tired. Her eyes catch everything that passes. Yesterday she discovered a new-found love for skateboards: they make great noise and interesting movement.
Last weekend was also filled with big adventures. We went down to London for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
long_roadtoruin's big party, where I didn't know one living soul except the lovely hostess. Little Bit simply sat and loved all the attention she got. Her big brown eyes got her a lot of compliments. Babies are a very welcome conversation starter.
*My hips have gone up one size since having Little Bit, but the rest kind of stayed the same. Now I can't seem to find any jeans that fit this new body without being to wide in the waist, or too narrow around the hips.
When confronted with the little houses, tidy streets and shopping Brits, I know why I don't usually go to these kind of places: It's the shopper's Disneyland. The whole entourage is fake and probably dead at night. But the clothes are real, as are the discounts.
So I gawked at everything, tried on several pairs of jeans, to find none that fit*, and went home with a lovely Puma track jacket. I've been lusting after this kind of jacket for ages, never buying it because they're too expensive. I looked so wonderful in it that I feel less bad about turning thirty in two days. P. found himself a pair of jeans that fit, but of course were too long for Mr. Short-Legs. Little Bit was the luckiest. We bought everything we liked at Petit Bateau: two pairs of trousers and a shirt. I love the clothes by Petit Bateau, but they're quite expensive, so finding them at a discount price was wonderful.
Not all Oxford days are this full. Yesterday was spent indoors because of the rain. I took Little Bit for a walk in the sling. She kind of hangs out of it for most of the time, and cuddles right up to me when she starts getting tired. Her eyes catch everything that passes. Yesterday she discovered a new-found love for skateboards: they make great noise and interesting movement.
Last weekend was also filled with big adventures. We went down to London for
long_roadtoruin's big party, where I didn't know one living soul except the lovely hostess. Little Bit simply sat and loved all the attention she got. Her big brown eyes got her a lot of compliments. Babies are a very welcome conversation starter.*My hips have gone up one size since having Little Bit, but the rest kind of stayed the same. Now I can't seem to find any jeans that fit this new body without being to wide in the waist, or too narrow around the hips.
