I’ve always considered myself to be almost too good at shopping. In fact, it’s my favourite form of stress-release. For some it’s food, others wine and some exercise (who are these people and how do I become one?) but for me, when life gets hectic, I get shopping. I have ninja-level skills when it comes to hunting out online discount codes, boast an op-shop radar that can locate the very atoms of a dreamy vintage knit and, having worked at this delightful magazine for a while now, consider myself as having a somewhat encyclopaedic knowledge of awesome fashion brands.
It’s this dubious talent that left me slightly concerned when I was tasked
