The Fashionista Wannabe

So I admit it. I am a sucker for all things pretty and shiny. 

And stripey. 

And dotty.

And flowery. 

And lace. 

So yes, basically I am one of those girls. I have too many clothes for my own good. The number of shoes I have could rival that of a small shoe store's. I used to have so many accessories in my jewellery box that I could have opened up my own stall in a flea market. The number of bags in my collection grows exponentially by the day despite me proclaiming after every purchase that this was the last, because I would never need any more. 

I once jokingly said that if I had not ended up becoming a doctor, I would be one of those girls at Vogue or In Style or that next biggest fashion magazine to hit the streets. 

Think Anne Hathaway in 'Devil Wears Prada'. Ideal.

The truth is, I could never imagine myself doing anything other than my day job nowadays despite the fact that it does not actually involve much brain work besides running around chasing stuff and not being appreciated for it. Bar the fact that I derive pleasure from being 'busy' these days, I have continued to develop my personal sense of style within the limited scope of my job. 

I have never been a trend-setter or one of those girls who can boldly pull off the funkiest of designs. Neither am I a fashionista - think those socialites in Gossip Girl. But the one thing I can give myself credit for is that I do have a sense of style, whether or not it is an acquired one, is another matter. 

Sometimes it makes me wonder whether I am in the wrong field of work. If only I was this good at making spot diagnoses or recognising little things in patients rather than pull this piece and that together to make a perfect match. But then I scoff aloud and check myself right there. Who ever said fashion and medicine couldn't be in the same semantic field? I may love dressing up and pairing pieces together and experimenting with different trends, albeit in moderation, but I am no fashion designer. Never. Ever. 

But there are days that I wish my job did not involve being splashed on by bodily matter or scurrying around the entire hospital looking for a blood gas syringe or trying to run after a consultant surgeon during a 2 minute ward round, just so I could possibly turn up to work one day looking like this: 

Or even complete my outfit to this extent: 

Many a time when I have lamented to my mum that I wish I had a job which involved a whole lot of sitting around on cushy chairs so that I could be decked out in heels all day long, I have gotten a "Pffttt" in response. 

You? Sit around all day long? Did you not hate Elderly Care medicine so much because there was just too much sitting around because it was just too slow for your pace? 

So perhaps while my career as a house officer draws to an end, I will stretch out these remaining days with whatever limits my work wardrobe can be stretched to and however much my feet can stand being tortured by running around in wedges all day long, and look forward to the day that I can be finally be sat in my own office. In heels. 

For the moment, I can continue living in my own shopaholic bubble to whatever extent my funds can allow me, and build towards being that fashionista that I have always wanted to be.