Crisis in Dundrum Foptown Centre

I apologise for not filling you in on my daily travails yesterday, but the truth of the matter is I got lost in a shopping mall. I went into Dundrum Town Centre on Tuesday and only found my way out this evening when a security guard stopped me shouting at the sushi on the conveyor belt in the Japanese 'restaurant.' I had long since lost my wits at this stage after numer fits of pique and was simply asking the tempura if the conveyor belt was the best way out. I seemed to identify with the raw fish morsels.

It all started with the quest for a little Christmas shopping, which is usually fine in such places, but what I didn't realise was that I'd never gone into that gleaming pit of tracksuit-clad Luas-teens and suburbanites alone before. My innately foppish lack of a sense of direction or ability to concentrate on anything for more than a heart flutter actually worked against me for the first time in my life. It was very disconcerting indeed.

Four Starbucks half-caff soy white mochas gave me the fortitude to focus on myself for a while. I suspicioned that thinking of others may have contributed to my discombobulation, so I decided I'd pick up an outfit in House of Frazer. I was led to the basement where all the different brands do be and was flirting with a beige pair of Sand slacks when the sales assistant - a pale smelling sort of a whelp - asked me if I'd ever stepped outside my sartorial comfort zone. Actually, I'm not sure he was as eloquent as that, I think he just remarked that every item of clothing I was wearing was an earth colour and that I should try something that "really pops."

Next thing I'd lost all my purchases, my phone, my wallet, my earth coloured clothes and I was standing in front a mirror at a make-up counter gawking aghast at the vermillion red t-shirt and and prune crushed velvet trousers that the bad man had set upon me like a gaudy hound of hell. Infuriated, I set off running in search as a way out - it was like Hotel California.

The next twenty-four hours is a blur. I'm still recovering.

But I think the moral of the story is- comfort zones are there for a reason.

Another Crisis In Foptown.

Tune in tomorrow for another Crisis in Foptown. Same fop time, same fop channel.