Opening Shot: Miranda Falls Foul of the First Rule of Window-Shopping: Stay on the outside of the Window
Byline: MIRANDA SAWYER
I was window-shopping before one of London's more expensive shopping windows when I noticed it. The skirt. I peeled my tongue away from the glass and stood back for a better look. A flippy little number, bedecked with eye-catching summery flowers. General effect: purple petal overload, knee-length. I marched inside.
The willowy assistant inclined her head slightly towards me, indicating that she could perhaps find a moment in her busy hanger-straightening schedule for a brief conversation, so I skipped up to her and said: `How much for the cloggies in the window? Ha ha ha... no, not the shoes, actually, the skirt.' She inclined her head away from me and sniffed to her colleague: `The Foix De Solange skirt?' (Actually, I made that designer up - I couldn't make out what she said through the pound of plums in her mealy mouth.) Her colleague whispered back, and I was informed: `pounds 250, modom.'
I couldn't help it. I reverted to type. `Two hundred and fifty quid!' I bellowed, like a bull presented with his china-shop bill. `A quarter of a thousand pounds! For a skirt... THAT'S MADE OUT OF MY BROTHER'S OLD CURTAINS!'
And it was, honestly. I'd recognise the material anywhere. Mostly because the whole of the upstairs of our house was decorated in it when I was little. …