Pretty fly

In line with the gratuitous narcissism shown by Patrick's beard post, I decided I might as well plaster my face all over this thing, in the name of finding out whether I am cool or deluded. Or whether I'm just female and males will never understand.

Last Saturday, I went all-purpose summer shopping in TK Maxx and spent around £150. This is unusual, even for me. I hate long extended shopping excursions and part with money with great reluctance. However, my final amount was greatly increased by my decision to purchase a pair of sunglasses for £69.99. Now, according to the label on them, they would normally cost £240.00 but because I was buying them a season or so late, I had saved myself oodles of money. Though this assumes I was always going to buy them in the first place (which isn't necessarily true, I'd have to be fairly off my face on some noxious substance to even contemplate spending £240.00 on sunglasses).

Neither of the males I was with (boyfriend and his mate), could see the attraction. They said they make me look like a fly. While I can see this is true, I also feel that I have just acquired two hundred and forty quid's worth of schweedie-dahlink without the associated painful hit in the wallet.

And even if I do look like a fly, I can hide behind them and scowl at people. Which, along with looking sultry and possibly famous, is what giant sunglasses are for. I did consider cheaper options (Honda sunglasses, £15, a bit more practical and big squarish ones, with white arms, £20, and what the aviator would have worn if he was an Essex girl), but didn't like either as much. And my mum said I might as well go with the ones I really liked because at least then I would definitely wear them. So I went ahead and treated myself.

I guess I'm asking, would you ever spend that much on accessories? What's your cut-off point? And did I get good deal out of it, assuming I wear them lots and they don't break in a week?