MY NEW WARDROBE
A stunning tale of heartache, friendship and shocking revelations…
I hated my wardrobe when i moved into my new gaff. It was one of those metal structures with no sides and it looked like a cage. A really crap cage because it had no door and the lion would escape. All my clothes were on show and risked the brunt of the dust and those pesky clothes fairies that fly in during dark hours feeding off my Primarni jeans and hand me downs.
It also looked shit.
For what seemed like 6 months (it was actually 6 months) i pestered my landlord for a new wardrobe. I’d already Carol Smilied my room; ripped out wallpaper, painted me walls and stripped my fireplace- Lawrence Leweliyn Bastard Bowen would be shitting his velvet pants and quiverring in his flouncy gay sleeves if he could see me room.
One day after a hard day at the office I returned home to find a stnning white wardrobe in the middle of my room, complete with chiq plastic handles- it was truly yummy, but stuck in the middle of my room.
I was excited, i enjoy a good piece of furniture.
I opened the door to have a peer inside- y’know check if it hada pole i could hang my clothes off using clothes hangers- i had the misfortune of having a wardrobe last year that actually didn’t have a pole and i was terribly disapointed.
This is what i found
It is Susan Sarandon.
6 blown up photos of Susan Sarandon laced with gold paint and gold glitter arranged in such a fashion as if she was an angel sent down my god to nurture my soul and make all things right in this big bad world.
I’d be lying if i said i wasn’t a bit scared.I looked aound my room to see if there was a knifed maniac hiding behind my curtains quoting Stepmom and holding Julia Roberts to ransom.
Fuck knows where my landlord got it from. But i imagine there’s now a very disturbed person in prison beating his meat to Thelma and Louise.