Bonds, Lilac Bonds

Do you see what I see? I see a wily bad girl, bent on throwing a spanner in my hoisting project, cleverly disguised as a ratty Bonds top. The name’s Bonds, Lilac Bonds.


Don’t be fooled by her bedraggled appearance, Lilac Bonds is alternating between scathing mockery and alluring seduction from the hanger.

Bonds top
Bonds, Lila Bonds

There’s no explaining it. I love this ratty old Bonds top. I think its provenance is Myer at the illustrious mecca of Melbourne’s south eastern suburbs, Knox City, circa 1990-something. She’s practically vintage, right?

I think my ideas about having too much stuff being related to a sense of comfort are encapsulated completely in this one item. Oh Lila.

Can a piece of clothing simply be a sweet Velveteen Rabbit, or it is destined to be a Trojan Horse of Hoarding?

While I ponder that, I think I will tackle something else, like the boxes under the bed, and see if I can ignore the alluring ‘Bonds girl’ pull of this battered old lover.

Have you been hoisting the hangers? Sorting your shoes? Culling your cardis? I’d love to hear about it.

I need some encouragement! Have you ever slayed a Bonds bad girl?

Yours in wobbly-midway-hoisting-slumpiness,

Annette x

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