The latest collection from A|Wear has me all in a tizzy, although not necessarily for the clothing themselves; I’m a sucker for a well done shoot, and this one has all the components of a really beautiful fashion shoot. Bright colours, a strong model (and they’re rare, I’ll tell you) and some really clever props (hello, heavily knitted Indian rug) . . .

These photographs are from their new Eclectic Paradise collection – hardly an original concept, given that eclecticism and birds of paradise have been strong themes on most catwalks this spring/summer, but you can’t deny that it looks very good.

On the customer service front, my grip is a small – albeit not insignifcant – one. I was in A|Wear the other day doing my weekly shopathon (yes, I have a problem). Of late, I have been searching for more colour blocked items, less patterns (despite their ubiquity on the aforementioned fashion scene), in an attempt to appear a little older than the 21 years I have been told THREE TIMES in the past week I look like . . . But I digress.

I picked up a lovely, tiered, blue dress and brought it to the changing room. It was slightly too big (hurrah!) so I asked the girl if they had it in the next size down.

“We do, but they all have make-up stains on them,” says she. I must have looked a bit baffled (why, if every single dress has make-up stains on it, were they still on the shop floor? “We’ll give you 10 per cent off, but you can’t return it,” she continues, folding and stacking, folding and stacking. I nod; working in various high-street stores means that I am fully aware of my rights as a consumer, and would have no qualms about returning said discounted dress, should the stains not come out at the cleaners’.

I bring the dress to the counter. “Hi, the girl in the changing room told me there’s 10 per cent off because they’re stained,” says I, plonking the dress on the counter along with a far-too-small-but-heavily-discounted parka.

“Well, she never told me,” she replies, inspecting the dress for make-up stains. The inspection didn’t take long, as the make-up stain was plain for all to see, on the front of the dress. “Well, you can’t bring it back.”

Now, let’s examine logic for a moment: if I purchase a dress at 10 per cent off, a discount of €5, given because the dress is make-up stained, and I bring the dress to the cleaner and spend €11 getting it dry-cleaned, not only have I spent €6 over the price of the dress, but I have been fairly put out at the same time. Would it not be a good plan for stores to give out dry-cleaning vouchers, in the event of this occurring again, with a guarantee that they would refund the dress, should the stain not come out?

For my part, I will be picking up my gúna on Tuesday morning and, should that tell-tale stain remain, I shall be high-tailing it to my nearest A|Wear to have what I imagine will be a mightily satisfying row, after which I expect to leave, cash in hand. Watch this space.