My receipts in a slightly more ordered state than when they lived in the shoe box. I say slightly...
Brollies at the ready, ladies for a dark cloud hangs above The Beauty Hall. January means one thing for this lipstick lover, and it ain't makeup related: yes, it's tax return time!
As a momentary break from the misery of calculating how much of the fashion fund has to be paid in tax (really, HMRC? Really?! Well, you better break it to Harvey Nicks, 'cos I'm not doing it), I thought I would share some of the happier memories that, until last night's epic accounting session, lurked in the groaning shoe box ominously marked 'receipts'. This proves that there is some joy in tax returns:
- The receipt from MAC, King's Road, where I bought an entirely new face after morphing from blonde to brunette. And I only went in for a brow pencil...
- My bargainous Theory black leather shorts - thank you, Selfridges
- 100+ receipts from Eat (note to self: prepare your own lunches!)
- A couple of obscene bar tabs from Refuel at the Soho Hotel. The passion fruit and ginger caipirihna is a clear winner *hic*