I'm a blogger, I'm a smogger, I'm a midnight togger

Roundabout this time 3 years ago, my ex and I was featured in a BBC2 documentary exploring different couples' approach to managing finances and the impact money had on the relationship. I was profiled as a care-free shopaholic with a penchant for t-shirts and free range eggs. As a minor claim to fame, I was subsequently described as 'a disaster, who buys t-shirts by the truckload' by the resident TV reviewer at The Guardian. Although there's probably an element of truth in that particular description, I prefer to view it less as chaotic disruption and more measured frivolity.

The basic premise for this blog is to chronicle my spending, a kind of visual representation of my bank statement. I intend to write a blog post every time I spend money on non-essential material things for myself over the next year or so and see if over time it causes me to re-examine my approach to parting with money.

The idea for the blog came from a hungover (me) conversation with my dear friend @JeanetteLeech on her sofa in Harringay. J is a writer by profession, check out her acid folk opus "Seasons They Change", and holds the written word in high esteem. She also undertook a 52 week blog project with her friend Jude the other year so she's got previous. Initially I figured I'd start the blog in January as a way of ushering in the new year but then as it so happens today is that most revered day of the month: payday. It all begins today therefore.

I've just returned home to Sheffield after spending 5 days in London. I work for Breast Cancer Care, the UK wide charity supporting people affected by breast cancer, and was down at our head office for a 2 day course and a project meeting, interspersed with leisure time. I can heartily recommend a visit to Institute of Sexology at Wellcome Collection which opened last week. Amongst the items on display are a rather impractical vibrator and a scary looking anti-masturbation device. The main focus however is on the pioneers of sex research such as Kinsey and Von Krafft-Ebing, the latter's 19th century work "Psychopathia Sexualis" introduced me to a whole range of sexual deviancies I frankly had no clue existed. 'Mania, or theft of, women's handkerchiefs' anyone?

I of course found some time to do a spot of non-Christmas shopping, and happened across the below garment in Zara's new Oxford Street flagship store

I'm by no means a Zaraholic, and at £19.99 it's possibly the most money I've ever spent on a single t-shirt, but it took me all of 5 seconds to grab it and run for the tills. As it turns out it was actually a rather crucial purchase as later that day I managed to wreck a shirt by attempting to iron it using the carpet in my hotel room as ironing board (yes, I really am that stupid). So if I'd not bought the t-shirt I would've had to walk round London at night with a bit of Travelodge stuck on me and that would've been a real disaster.