Ali, of Alison's Fight Debt Page , recently posted the news that the OFT (The Office of Fair Trading) has finally revoked the consumer credit license of Matthew St John Crossley, who had been trading as the Debt Advisory Company.

Crossley (a.k.a. Matthew Crossley, Matthew Prevett, Billy Bullshit), former star of Watchdog (March 2007), had been trading as a debt advisor for years through his websites thedebtadvisorycompany.co.uk and advisorsondebt.co.uk. Another former trading name was the Debt Advisory Service Ltd. Sadly, the only service Crossley seemed to provide was the removal of his clients' cash.

People in serious financial trouble turned to Crossley for advice and guidance, no doubt reassured by his company's promises of 'free, confidential, professional debt advice that works.' This 'advice', as it turns out, was that consumers should remortgage their homes and pass the proceeds to Crossley who would distribute the cash among the creditors. 

Except that he didn't. 

Instead his clients became further in debt, bankrupted and faced losing their homes. 

A quote from the OFT website explains the reasons behind their decision to remove Crossley's license:

Ray Watson, OFT Director for Consumer Credit, said:

The trouble is, that for people in serious financial difficulties, it can be difficult to tell the good from the bad with regard to debt advice.

Serious debt makes you feel miserable. It makes you feel panic-stricken. It also makes you feel confused and oh so tired of fighting. So you look for someone who's able to negotiate the debt battlefield for you. 

You might go to Citizens Advice and find that there's a a six week waiting list for an appointment with the finance advisor.

You might sit at home crying, desperate for the help of anyone who can deal with your problems immediately and who sound like they know what they're talking about.

A smart suit and a smile can often work wonders in inspiring consumer's trust.

I've learnt a couple of things during my time of dealing with debt:

One is that if it sounds too good to be true then it almost certainly is

If a company or debt advisor makes it sound like insolvency's a minor inconvenience that can be solved in a heart beat then run like the wind. It can't and it won't.

Never take someone's advice without researching and checking it first

Always triple check everything you're told. If you still aren't sure then check it again. You can't blindly rely on the advice of others and trust that they're always right. They may not be and it's you who pays if they've got it wrong.

There are still plenty of Billy Bullshits left in the debt industry, but they're only surviving because they keep getting customers. The C.A.B. waiting list may be a long one, but it's certainly better than getting into bother with Billy.

Yep, it's me again! After only a three-month black hole in my life I'm back in the blogosphere and ready to share the hilarity that's been my March-May 2008.

After all, why waste cash on Take a Break when Calamity Kate's (mis)adventures are at your fingertips?

Ladies, I'll be back...

If you've got a spare Saturday coming up and you fancy a little something to fill your time, I've got just the ticket!

Why not become a 'professional' in debt management? 
That's right! You too can profit from the booming personal insolvency sector by training to become an IVA introducer, with less than ten hours of training.

The website advertising this service online and in national newspapers suggests that anyone can earn between £600 - £4,500 in referral fees weekly, just by finding broke customers to pass on to IVA companies.

Yowser.

You haven't even heard the best bit yet... one of the 'advantages', the training company claims, is that the debt management/IVA business isn't FSA (Financial Services Authority) regulated so there's no need to bother with anything fiddly like audits, or compliance or, God forbid, any formal qualifications. 

No professional qualifications or regulating body to worry about here! No sirree!

After just a few hours of training (all in one day -- no time wasting either!), costing about £2000, wannabe debt-management 'professionals' will know how to earn commission from the full gamut of personal debt and insolvency procedures. No matter what the customer's circumstances, there'll be a 'solution' to fit them, and, of course, a nice little earner for the 'trained professional' too.

The course includes learning how to earn commission from personal bankruptcies and a host of other debt management routes that could be done through any of the FREE, IMPARTIAL, INDEPENDENT debt advisory charities who will not rip off people dealing with serious debt.

What could be easier?

What could be simpler?

What the hell's wrong with the FSA? 

Why aren't debt management companies regulated by the Financial Services Authority?

How on earth is it possible that any Tom, Dick or Harriet off the street can spend less than a day 'training'  how to make money from the poor, unfortunate souls who're up the financial creek without a paddle, without having to pass any professional qualifications or abide by any government set code of conduct?

I wouldn't even give the company who do this the advertising by naming them.

I propose a new kind of training. What about training that teaches people how to avoid being profit for untrained, unqualified, unregulated debt-management 'professionals'? 

If I could have made a prediction about last night's ITV  programme Repossession, Repossession, Repossession, it was that we, the viewers, would be regaled with tales of the the most extreme, sensational cases of debt the programme's researchers could find.

Case studies we could all tut over and say, "Well, what DO you expect?  If  these morons overspend then their situation is no one's fault but their own." Case studies that would allow us to sit back, bourbon biscuit in hand, cup of tea in the other, and sigh at their gross stupidity and greed while congratulating ourselves on our own excellent financial management skills.

In my experience, this is how prime-time programmes about debt usually go and I wasn't disappointed by journalist Jeff Randall's offering last night.

The opening of the programme saw a stern-faced Jeff striding through the set, a parody of a Victorian banquet of indulgence and excess.

The party's coming to an end, he warned we viewers.

I was already riveted by the image of ye olde-world bailiff coming to rap on the door of a debtor... "But who", I wondered, "has been having a party?"

I was, of course, thinking of my own situation, and the situations of many of the women who have written to me through Ladies in the Red. I was thinking of the single mothers who've struggled so badly with the financial demands of raising children alone that they've got caught in the debt trap; low-earning families who've been unable to make the mortgage payments; people whose finances have been ticking over at the same rate as everyone else's until they're made redundant and find themselves out of work for a few months and can't maintain their repayments; family bread-winners who become ill and can no longer work and find themselves on benefits and unable to make their mortgage payments. These are the 'debt cases' that I hear of the most.

It seems that Jeff, however, knows a whole different set of people.

Enter Shelley, a glamour model with a taste for the high-life.

Shelley liked regular botox injections, holidays in the sun and regular shopping sprees in exclusive boutiques. Her hair alone cost her around £150 a month, she said. Who knows how much it really cost, however, since her financial calculations did not appear to based in reality. The £25,000 debt she thought she owed actually turned out to be more to the tune of £41,000. Oops. That's the cost of full-head highlights for you.

"I earn enough" she quipped, "just not enough to cover my outgoings."

Hm hm.

"Okey doke, Shelley." I thought to myself while watching, "I think we can all see that you've only agreed to do this show so you can get your bum out for cameras and get a bit of extra work."

And indeed, there she was, in the next shot, with her bum out for the cameras.

I'm still sure we didn't need that back shot of her posing in a thong to better understand her debt issues but then again what do I know? I am but a former debtor myself and you know what we're like; when we're not filling our faces with credit bought botox we're buying ourselves a new outfit for every day of our 14 day holiday in the sun. All on tick, naturally. What a set of silly beggars we are.

Actually, Shelley really was a bit of an arse ('scuse the pun) and seemed to find her financial situation laughable at a couple of points in the show. When Jeff asked her if she was going to cut down her spending, for instance, she laughed like a drain.

I was there, on my sofa, getting out my bourbon biscuits and tutting along with the best of them. I mean, seriously, she paid £150 for a hair-colour job like that?! The girl really was a fool.

I was moving along with the tide of the programme, people who were on the receiving end of the credit crunch were all just reckless spenders. Deluded. Incompetent. Gluttonous. Covetous. They had partied hard and now were going to suffer the hangover.

Then we met Mark and Diane who, in contrast to Shelley, had none of the trappings of a pseudo-celebrity lifestyle.

They'd bought a modest home after renting all their lives and had had to borrow to keep up their mortgage repayments.

Of course, they were heartbroken over their situation.

We watched as they and their young son boxed up their belongings in preparation for the bailiff visit.

Diane told us, “We’d never, ever think anything like this would happen…you read about it happening to other people but we always said it would never happen to us and it did.”

As Diane spoke I wondered how many people currently caught in the debt trap had similar thoughts themselves, and how many of the tutters sitting at home might one day find themselves dealing with a debt problem they thought they'd never have.

With Mark and Diane, however, I was in more familiar territory. These were like the people I knew about.

We weren't going to find out much about them though, or delve into their situation the way we had with Shelley. Nope.Not when we had a character like Adrian to goggle at!

Wowser! Adrian was a crazy horse! Actually, he was a crazy horse buyer -- on credit -- but sweet lord did he give good TV! Between him and Shelley's bum, Repossession, Repossession, Repossession was turning other people's debt into better entertainment than Strictly Come Dancing.

Adrian owed £1.1 million in credit but only had the income to repay half of this debt. 

"Gadzooks!" thought I.

As it turned out, I needn't have worried for him: as he sat in the house for which he'd just secured a half million pound mortgage, Adrian told us that his debt was the lender's problem.

In fact, such was Adrian's gung-ho approach to borrowing that he'd even bought a racehorse on his credit card. "Gadzooks almighty!" thought I. Again.

Sadly, the aforementioned racehorse limped into last place in its first race, but that didn't deter Adrian. Probably because Adrian would be forced to have a serious lifestyle rethink if he were to come off the credit. His five holidays a year would have to go for one thing.

Repossession laid the blame at other feet than the debtors themselves, however; culpabililty for the UK's current financial dire straits was also assigned to the creditors giving out all this easy-peasy, debt inducing cash and the government took a bit of a bashing for creating a climate in which being in debt could be seen as normal and acceptable.

You could say on this basis that the programme was a comprehensive investigation into all the factors that have led to the nation's widespread debt and insolvency.

At least more than one element of the causes of the credit crunch were examined. Instead of only piling the contempt onto the stupid debtors, or the stupid banks, or the stupid government, Repossession piled the contempt onto the stupid debtors, the stupid banks AND the stupid government.

Indeed, the programme offered a more thorough approach to the credit crunch than many I've seen.

I was still left with an unplesant taste in my mouth after the credits had rolled, however.

Through my own experience, and those of the hundreds of other women and men dealing with various levels of financial distress that I've heard from through this website, I couldn't help but feel that Repossession had opted for entertainment value over a serious examination of the reality of the majority of people left reeling from the effects of the credit crunch. Not the Shelleys and Adrians of this world, who account for a tiny percentage of the people in serious debt, but the everyday people.

The people that the Citizens Advice representative was talking about when she said that the only thing that separated the debt advisers from the people calling to get help wasn't the amount of debt but the circumstances that left the callers unable to cope with their finances.

Redundancy, illness and divorce, she said, were the main causes of insolvency in the cases that CAB deals with.

"Hang on," I thought to myself, "if these were the main causes, then how come we're staring at some glamour model's bare fake-tanned arse and listening to a twit driving a land rover bang on about his credit bought race horses?".

I'm still not sure.

  If you live in the London area and want to usher spring into your wardrobe without shelling out a fortune then get yourself off to Swapaholics, a clothes swap event being organised by Rae James Personal Styling.

Swapaholics will take place at The Queen Boadicea in Clerkenwell at 6.30pm on February 21st. Entry costs £5.00 but anyone mentioning Ladies in the Red will receive a 25% discount. Places are limited so, if you fancy swapping all those 'bargains' you bought in the sales but have never worn and haven't got round to listing on ebay yet, email Tracey at Rae James and let her know you're coming!

National Debtline, CCCS, Citizens Advice, all trusted, reputable companies that offer people in debt impartial, independent advice. Ladies in the Red promotes all three of these advice services as the first port of call for anyone in financial trouble. Anyone trying to find these charities will be in debt, seriously down on their luck and often frightened and vulnerable.

Which is exactly why companies selling IVAs and other debt 'solutions' masquerade as these charities in the Google search results, so people who desperately need help and need some good advice might accidentally click on their sponsored link by mistake and end up as a fee paying customer to a company who's hawking any kind of solution to your debt as long as it makes them a profit.

Give it a go on Google. Type in any of the most well known debt advice charities and you'll find a sponsored link where an IVA company's using their name to pull in the unsuspecting punters.

National Debtline is a particular favourite of these firms. The first links that appear under a search for National Debtline on Google (paid links, of course) are debt solution companies hoping to cash in on those people who perhaps don't know the internet too well and so don't realise that the first links shown are often there because the company is paying for them to be there, or those who only read the bold type, or those who have never dealt with debt or debt advice before and so have no idea what a National Debtline, CCCS or Citizens Advice website should look like. After all, what kind of company pretends to be an independent, impartial debt advice charity when it's actually a firm that sells its own loans, plans and arrangements for huge profits? And who're they cashing in on? The poor sods who thought they were going to CAB.

We all think of Bill Sykes type bruisers when we think of the people who make money from other people's terrible situations, those who prey on the desperate and the vulnerable, but actually they aren't as easy as that to spot. If only the people who try and cheat their way into getting a profit looked like the bloke in the picture above, they'd be a whole lot easier to avoid. Instead, they'll be the ones looking respectable, smart, smiling, appearing as they're lending a helping hand, masquerading as a debt advice charity, not wanting you to know for one minute that the little arrangement they're encouraging you to make with them will be paying for their new fitted bedroom suite.

Ali from Fight Debt  is celebrating her (un)birthday today.

We can't think of anyone we'd rather give a birthday present and bottle of champagne to than the lovely Ali.

Since email gifts and alcohol don't have quite the same impact as the the real stuff, however, we'll have to be content with wishing Ali a very happy (un)birthday. We hope you get to visit Venice again soon.  xxx

Here I am on the front cover of YOU magazine, looking remarkably like Angelina Jolie... don't hate me because I'm beautiful. 

Anyhoo, YOU magazine is once again looking for a Lady in the Red to tell their story in its pages. They're specifically on the look-out for a woman or a couple who have had their home repossessed and then had to go bankrupt. Strangely, they don't seem to want to feature me again... I wonder if it's because I nicked that jar of change they used in the article photo?

The lady who'll be writing the piece, freelance writer Sadie Nicholas, assures me that it will be a very serious article about debt that she's hoping will inspire others in that situation to be positive and also to stop others from reaching that stage in the first place.

The woman/couple will have to be comfortable appearing in print because a photograph will be featured alongside the story and YOU will pay each woman/couple £100 as thank you.

If anyone has been through repossession and bankruptcy and wouldn't mind being featured in a magazine, please email me at mail@ladiesinthered.com and I'll pass your details on. Don't forget though that YOU magazine is the UK's best read women's magazine (it has approximately 4.3 million readers each week) so, if you're featured in it, it's highly likely that someone you know will read about you. Please only consider it if you're comfortable with people being aware of your financial situation.

I can tell you, however, that when my article was featured in YOU magazine last October the response was overwhelming and I received nothing but positive comments, well-wishing and good thoughts. Just make sure you fake tan properly!

Alison Anthony over at Alison's Fight Debt Page has been having a hard time of it over the past year or so. She's had a bit of financial bother, she's been hasselled by Debt Collection Agencies and she's been feeling under the weather recently, which makes us Ladies in the Red feel sad too.

With all this going on you'd think that Ali would just get back into bed, close her eyes and forget all about debt and  DCA's bullying tactics. 

That's you what you might think, but then you don't know Ali.

In fact, she upped arms and did what she does best: she wrote. She wrote letters of complaint to DCAs. She wrote messages of support to other people in the same situation on her blog. She started writing a book about debt, and she wrote a superb article for the November issue of Voices: Mental Health Practice .

When I posted on this blog about the anti-climax of being discharged from bankruptcy, Ali responded with two posts on her other blog, Not That Blog Either, giving me the party that I'd felt too non-plussed at the time to enjoy. Instead, I read about my cyber-celebration on Ali's page and I laughed.

Which is precisely why we're sending her this big caramel heart from all of us at Ladies in the Red. Ali, you make our hearts smile. We hope we managed to do the same for you too.

Thanks again to Bouncing Betty for alerting us to an excellent article on how to go about rebuilding credit after insolvency. 

The article 'Bounce Back Fast Bankruptcy' , by Liz Pulliam Weston is from the US but many of the points are relevant for the UK too.

Have a read to remind you that insolvency isn't for life -- with careful planning you can get yourself back on track in less time than you think.

Congratulations to Betty, of Bouncing Back From Bankruptcy, who has been discharged from bankruptcy!  

Betty has consistently blogged her way through the US insolvency process. We've followed her journey while she's looked for jobs, fought to keep her home, lost her inherited jewellery and budgeted to make ends meet.

Now it's rolled around to her discharge from bankruptcy, Betty, like many of us, has mixed emotions as she starts on the new road to financial repair.

Unbelievably, the credit offers have already started to come in. Learning of the Betty's discharge before even she did, sub-prime credit firms (don't they ever learn?) are already sending her post-bankruptcy offers of credit for cars and cards. Betty isn't even a day out of bankruptcy yet.  

We'd like to wish her the best of luck on her next journey into solvency. We'll be with her all the way. Keep bouncing, Betty!

I hope all of you Ladies in the Red readers have a very happy 2008 -- may it be better than 2007!

Love, Katie x

P.S. An extra special "Happy New Year" to my mate Ali of Not that Blog Either and Alison's Fight Debt Page, who continues to be my favourite blogger in the bloggosphere. What a gal! Keep kicking that sorry DCA ass into touch, Ali! xxx

Being financially challenged is terrifying at the best of times but nothing beats looking in the mirror after a sleepless night trying to calculate how you’ll afford this month’s gas bill and being confronted with a face not even a mother could love: bruised looking under-eye bags, gnawed lips, pasty-skin, spots, rashes, and no make-up left in your ‘left-over’ drawer to cover the damage. Oh, it’s a hard-knock life for us…

…and then cosmetics brand E.L.F  came along.

E.L.F. (Eyes Lips Face) is a US based cosmetics company that offers fabulous products at an eye-popping price: £1.50 for every product (of which there are 130!) on the site.

For the first time in two years I now have a decent blusher brush! That may sound trivial to some of you but I was so excited to find a quality brush that I could actually afford that I even took the 18 month old varnish off my toe-nails and repainted them — a red letter day indeed then!  Yes, the day to day victories of the newly-discharged bankrupt may be small but they’re keenly celebrated.

My favourite product from the range is the All in One Colour Stick, a three in one product that can be used on the eyes, cheeks and lips. So like Nars The Multiple and yet so far away from the £28 price that it’s uncanny. The only drawback is that the products are a touch on the small side. They not trial size but they’re not generous either. Then again, what do you expect for £1.50? Personally I’d like a family size tub but then if E.L.F. did that they’d go bust and I’d end up having to go about like the Bankrupt Bride of Frankenstein again. Shudder.

Vanity aside, E.L.F. products are perfect for Christmas presents. So much make-up at such small expense. I've actually managed to better my fiver per person budget this year by buying everyone three products. I hope my Dad and two brothers like their lip glaze!

Nearly a month ago I was tagged by Miss Ladybug at Ladybug & Co to give 'seven honest facts' about myself. I've only just seen this tag, therefore my first honest fact will be:

1. I can be very slow on the uptake. Occasionally, having a conversation with me is like a communicating via satellite, just with a longer pause between the question and my answer.

2. When I was seven my Dad told me that John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John weren't married in real life. This was my first great disappointment. I cried in the shed for three hours until my Nan told me to stop being such a 'soft little bugger'. Bless.

3. My favourite colour is red. Good job, really.

4. I was banned from entering my brother's room when I was eight. Apparently he found it annoying that I repeatedly went in with my super-woofer, put 'Papa Don't Preach' on full blast and followed him around miming the words, pretending that he was the Papa who shouldn't preach.

5. I often struggle to tell my right from left and have to see which thumb and forefinger make an 'L' when I hold them up before I can go in the right direction.

6. Even the smell of the peach-flavoured alcoholic beverage 'Archers' makes me want to vomit. An aversion I've suffered from since getting drunk on it when I was seventeen and then having to have my friend's mum wipe the sick from my shoes while I cried because Chachi (of 'Happy Days' fame) was only a fictional character. She still refers to me as Joanie. I try to avoid her as much as possible.

7. I have a lump on the back of my hand, which many people mistake for a ganglion (a harmless but unslightly cyst. Yum!) but is actually a bone that didn't set properly after I broke my wrist while running to show a large blackberry to my Dad when I was six.

During my period of bankruptcy I'd imagine how I'd feel when I was discharged. Oooo, I'd be excited! I'd be giddy! I'd probably feel exactly like I used to, flipping back into my pre-bankruptcy happy-go-lucky personality with the speed of Victoria Beckham's post-pregnancy return to size zero jeans.

You can imagine my surprise then, when the much anticipated date of my bankruptcy discharge rolled around and I felt as deflated as a birthday balloon two days after the party. 

Where I should have been feeling exhilarated I felt listless. Where I should have been energised I was lethargic. Where was the big change? What difference had it made?

I sat on the sofa and waited for my friends to burst in through the door and do a conga around the lounge with party blowers hanging out of their mouths.

After a few minutes I realised this wasn't going happen.

I tried saying a half-hearted 'Yay!' to myself. It was hardly festive. Even I thought I sounded like a berk.

This wasn't going the way I'd imagined it would.

In fact, I wouldn't even be off the insolvency register for another three months. Not that it made much difference but it would be visible evidence of change. Instead it was like waking up on your thirteenth birthday and racing to the mirror to see if you'd changes and finding that being a teenager hadn't transformed you from a gangly pre-pubescent into a graceful young woman like you imagined but had just given you a patch of chin acne, greasy roots and penchant for wearing oversized men's t-shirts with leggings.

I checked the post and found a letter from the Insolvency Service. Assuming it was a letter of discharge I opened it. In actual fact it was a letter saying that my trustee in bankruptcy had now been appointed. I may have been discharged from bankruptcy but the insolvency experience just kept on going.

I don't know what I thought would happen on August 31.

Maybe I'd get a scrolled parchment invitation from Donald Trump to celebrate this auspicious occasion at Trump Towers, or a donation from Alan Sugar because he so admired the way I've dealt with financial ruin. I could even imagine the photo appearing in The Sun showing him handing me an oversized cheque with the sum of £50,000... no... make that £100,000 to help me get on my feet again. The headline would be 'Sir Alan Turns Lady in the Red into Lady in the Pink'. Oh, how my little face would be lit up in the photo! People would probably queue to shake my hand, "Good luck to you, Katie!" they'd say warmly. "All the best!" Sir Alan would say as he shook my hand and gave me a wry smile before disappearing into his glossy black limousine.

Ah, yes. What should have been.

 Instead I was staring at my stained carpet that I couldn't afford to replace, the sole of my left shoe attached with super-glue, wondering why I'd built this day up into such an occasion in my head.

Of course being discharged from bankruptcy wouldn't make any difference to my financial situation.

I was still skint.

What I seemed to have missed was that being a discharged bankrupt doesn't miraculously turn you into a person of means, it just means that control of your finances has been returned to you. So all that had happened today is that I was now back in control of bugger all.

Wowser, what an anti-climax.

I was feeling rather glum when I checked my cyber-buddy Alison Anthony's blog. As usual Ali cheered me up. She's a rum girl, is Ali. She'll be in agony with a bad leg, suffering from sleep deprivation from being up half the night (just have a look at the times some of her blogs are written!) and she'll still manage to knock out a beautifully written letter of complaint to the Bank of England. On the day of my bankruptcy discharge, however, Ali had just written one post on her Fight Debt Page, and it was this:

The cockles of my heart were warmed.

If Ali considered my bankruptcy discharge day something worthy of congratulations then so did I.

I celebrated immediately by eating a Sherbet Dip and five ginger nuts. I might have been bankrupt but I hadn't forgotten how to party.

I just love to write a list, I really do. I love it.

There's really nothing like writing all your most urgent tasks down in numerical order to make you feel organised, clear-headed, motivated, ... and in need of a little lie down once you've finished.

That's the problem with to-do lists. They can make you feel like you've already completed the jobs just by writing them down in order of priority. Taking time over list-writing is by no means any guarantee that you'll actually do anything on the list. I noticed this the other day when I realised that my to-do list looked exactly the same as last week's, except that I'd helpfully crossed off 'Finish reading this month's issue of SHE Magazine'. It appears that it's crucial for me to stay abreast of fashion I can't afford and read about how changing your hair-style can change your life (yep, changing my hair-style into the one sported by Stig of Dump has definitely changed my life. That's why my shoes are now so shabby one actually fell off my foot at the cinema the other day. True story.). That's one thing you can say about me, I've got my priorities right.

On the top of today's to-do list is making sure I complete the forms I was sent by my trustee yesterday. I'm pretty much tired of forms now. They're not only dull but the kind of forms I've been completing for the last 15 months are the kind that remind you over and over again, "You didn't forget that you've lost everything, have you? Oh, right. Just wanted to make sure. Just in case you were starting to move on and feel better I'd like you to fill in another form that details when you had your house repossessed and can you also state that you have no assets whatsoever to your name. That's right. You write it down. You've got zilch, nothing, nada, zip, sweet F.A., a big fat zero for Katie's assets. Write it down. Write it down until it really sinks in. Are you nearly crying? Smashing. Now you can continue writing your shit lists again. Many thanks."

In actual fact, the trustee's form is quite straightforward and they just need a bit of information but I've developed a serious aversion to form-filling since I went bankrupt. To the point where I will do almost anything to avoid them.

For instance, today I actually sat and cleaned the grouting in the bathroom with a fork. Now, even I can see that there's something wrong when you're reduced to crouching in water-less bath trying to recreate the 'Flash' bathroom advert in your own home (I say my own home, I actually mean someone else's home where I stay. It's always nice to pretend though). Filling in forms is just a trip to Dullsville though. It simply can't compete with removing limescale from grouting. My main problem is that they're frustrating. I'd much rather be able to speak to someone where I can explain the situation fully, but instead I have to fill in tiny boxes that never have enough room for what I need to say. Needless to say, if I don't discipline myself and force myself to just sit down and do the sodding things then forms can take FOREVER to complete. 

Which precisely why I've decided to write a to-do list and a blog entry instead.

So, first on my to-do list is to complete the forms for my trustee.

End of to-do list.

Oh bloody hell.

Now it looks like I'm going to have search for each and every split-end on my head and then cut them all off individually with nail scissors. That should easily take a couple of hours at least.

I'll see you in a while, Ladies.

Eastenders' Peggy Mitchell has joined the ranks of the Ladies in the Red!

The soap's latest storyline sees Peggy (Barbara Windsor) drowning in financial hot water and resorting to drastic measures in an attempt to drag herself out. One of last weeks storylines included Peggy's ill-advised encounter with a 'debt-management consultant'.

I snorted with amusement when the 'consultant's initially charming manner turned to intimidation and bullying when it looked like Peg wasn't going for the deal. He started to put the frighteners on the Pegster by emphasising the implications of what might happen if she didn't sign her assets away to him immediately. Does she want her son, Phil, to find out? Did she want her little grandson to be homeless? Oh no, poor Peg didn't want anything of the sort. She stared poignantly at a photo of Phil and Ben, pondering on the debt bloke's words. I could see she was wavering. After all, what WOULD her murderer/gangster/wife-beater/thug/thief/adulterer son think of her if he knew she was in debt? Why, surely he'd be appalled! The Mitchells might do GBH but they obviously don't do debt.

At this point, I couldn't help but wonder why, since Phil seems to be able to get his hands on thousands of pounds in cash at a moments notice, Peg didn't just call him and ask for a loan? What about Grant? He was always good for a quid or twenty-thousand. Anyway, clearly a family loan wasn't on the cards so Peg's financial struggle continued.

I felt bad for her. I really did. After all, it's difficult not to feel sympathy for someone whose hair piece is bigger than she is but, even though it was drama, I did feel genuinely sad for Peggy. She was desperate, she was at the end of her tether, she was almost beaten. Serious financial difficulty will do that to a girl. I willed her to call National Debtline but she didn't. Instead, she called in that bastion of impartial, independent advice, Sean Slater to come and smack her in the head. Nice one, Peg. That'll do it.

You'd think that with it being Eastenders and all, Peggy's case would be dramatic, sensationalist or extreme but actually it was pretty close to the reality of insolvency. People faced with insolvency are usually desperate enough to go to extreme lengths to avoid the inevitable. That's why they're vulnerable to the too good to be true claims of the dodgy companies who buy homes about to be repossessed, debt consolidation offers that may make the situation worse, and the IVA companies who advise clients to take the route that is profitable for the company rather than what's best for the client. Many people who face insolvency go to extreme lengths to avoid the dreaded bankruptcy, in some cases suicide.

Soaps reflect the social issues of the day, they echo the problems of the people watching them. In our debt-ridden society, millions of people are suffering financial distress. Unfortunately, the only unrealistic thing about Peggy's debt nightmare is her barnet.

Of course, the storyline hasn't finished yet so we're bound to see Peg think of some brilliant but wholly unfeasible business plan that will get her out of the mire. Or Phil will come round from his alcoholic stupor and just bang a wad of fifties on the table. Either way, Pegs will probably be out of trouble within a couple of months, which is a stark contrast to the years it takes most people to recover from serious financial difficulties in the non-telly world. At least Peggy's got plenty of trouser suits to sell on Ebay. That should tide her over until Phil gets back.

 If you're a Lady in the Red and you fancy being included as a case study in an article on women in bankruptcy then read on...

Caroline Crowe from The Sun Woman pages is writing an article on women and bankruptcy and is looking for a lovely lady to be featured as a case study. 

Being featured will include attending an (expenses paid) photo shoot in London, where you will have your hair and make-up done and be photographed in a red dress for a picture that will be used alongside your story.

Caroline also mentioned that The Sun will offer payment of around £200 to anyone who's used as a case study, so if you wouldn't mind getting a couple of hundred quid for telling your story (and getting your hair done for free!) email me at katie@ladiesinthered.com with your name and contact details and I'll pass them on to Caroline.

Can't wait to see one of you looking glam!

For everyone who has written in to compliment me on my bravery, courage and balls (how did you tell?  I thought the YOU photo was only a head shot) this is when my true inner wuss comes out.

On Monday night I went to bed feeling mildly queasy. Naturally I put this down to the box of belgian chocolates I'd eaten earlier and, knowing that 'Fat little piggy's eaten too much' feeling all too well, I knew it subside in time for the morning when I could fill my belly to the brim again.

Sadly, this was not to be the case.

I woke up in the early hours of Monday morning feeling a whole lot queasier.

I decided to get myself a drink of water, "I could be dehydrated" I said to myself sagely. I could also be sick as dog. And I was. If you can imagine David Walliams in the Little Britain sketch as the taster at WI garden parties then you can imagine me in my kitchen at 4am on Monday morning.

I was ill. I unwell. I was poorly. I was sick all over my slipper socks (they look like a sock but feel like a slipper).

Oh, what a sorry state I was in.

Very soon my whole body was aching (including, bizarrely, my buttocks. What the hell is that about?) and my head felt as if it was about to burst off its tiny stalk (by 'tiny stalk' I suppose I mean 'neck'... anyway, you get the gist). I was due into work in five hours and thought that the best way to deal with situation was to amass all my bravery, courage and... er... balls, and... sit down and sob while gipping into the fruit bowl.

The worst thing about it wasn't my vomit-sodden hair, or the fact that I seemed to be bringing up tomato seeds when I hadn't had a tomato in weeks (weird, eh?) but that I knew I was going to lose some serious dosh just because my stupid body couldn't hold itself together.

I work part-time, which means that I only get paid for the hours I do. This works out fine for me, except when my stomach decides to use the first day of the working week to purge itself of all solids. This bout of sickness was going to cost me big-style.

I've ended up having to take two days off. That's two days pay out of my monthly wage, which is probably going to be my food shopping for the month. Actually, that should be okay if I can stretch out the queasiness until next pay day.

Being bankrupt is poo. It truly is. Next time I hear, or read, of someone saying that it's an 'easy option' I'm going to tip the contents of my fruit bowl on their head. Be warned.

It's such a relief to be out of the (empty) bankruptcy closet!

Sorry for the late post, Ladies (and Gents!). Since the article came out last Sunday I've been inundated with messages of support, enquiries and requests for information. I've been doing my best to reply to everyone but I'm still a couple of days behind so to anyone who's written and hasn't received a reply yet, it's coming!

I have to say though, I was shocked to open the magazine and be confronted by a full-page close-up of my mug! Shiver.

Even more strange was the fact that no one recognised me from the photo. My nephew didn't know who he was looking at and my brother's first words to me on seeing the article were "Why the long face?" followed by much cruel laughter as he pointed at my elongated chin in the image. What a wag he is.

Anyway, for anyone who wants to know what I look like when I'm not staring down poignantly at a jar of old coppers, here's a photo of me (on the left) celebrating my discharge from bankruptcy last August. The gorgeous girl on the right is the lovely Pip, who I mention in the article. How much do I love her? LO-ADS!

 Here I am on the same night with my little brother. He also paid for my drinks, such a good lad. Glad he's forgiven me for all waiter service training I gave him as a toddler!

I'm currently in writing some new pages for the site but in the meantime, don't be shy to let me know if you want me to add something, or address a particular issue.  In the near future, pages on budgeting, dealing with stressed-out skin, the OR meeting/phonecall and how to stay sane when you're losing your lifestyle will be included n the site, any ideas for more will be gratefully received!

Keep your chins up, Ladies, and thanks for all your messages of support! You're all fantastic!

I've joined cyber-communities before.

I've been on MySpace, Facebook, MyBlogLog and, to be honest, I've never been a huge fan.

Too much spam, too many bands trying to score record deals, too many vile boys from secondary school who had fungal nail infections and/or scalp scurf trying to 'poke' you when you were minding your own business.

It's safe to say that I was underwhelmed by the web-social world.

Then, a fortnight ago, accepting an invitation from a fellow blogger, I joined Cre8Buzz... and my view of community sites was transformed.

In a fortnight I've made new friends, found new readers, and discovered fantastic new blogs. I've also jumped 546 places in the Cre8Buzz rankings from rank 554 to 8, all in only two weeks! I've never been so popular before! Well, except for the time at primary school when I told everyone my real mum was the mum from Family Ties and that I could introduce them all to Michael J. Fox. The way they shunned me when they found out I couldn't bring 'Mike' to the Christmas disco is still an upsetting memory for me. And perhaps explains why I seek cyber-friends on community websites...

Anyhoooo...

To all my new Cre8Buzz friends and readers I'd just like to say thank you for being so bloody nice to me... and also for finding my photo 'Not so Tiny Dancer' vaguely amusing. I was, of course, expecting at least SOMEONE to write a comment saying something along of the lines of "Ho ho. But of course, you look like a tiny little scrap of a thing!". You didn't. I'm not bitter. No. I'm really not. Really.

If you happen to buy tomorrow's issue of the Mail on Sunday's YOU Magazine, you may come across an article about personal bankruptcy, written by a 29 year old former bankrupt. That 29 year old former bankrupt is me.

I've written a diary-style feature, detailing the 18 months of my life from the closure of the company I owned to July of this year, the month before I was discharged from bankruptcy.

If the article was made up of only words I wouldn't be too anxious, but it isn't. There'll be at least one photograph to go along with the feature and that's the bit I'm feeling just a leeeetle bit antsy about.

I haven't seen the photos yet. I've no idea what expression I'll be wearing in them but I sincerely hope that I won't have been caught with a Woman'sweeklyhumanintereststory-esque look of reflection or mild anxiety, while looking out of the window pondering on life's recent sad turn. If that were to happen I would despise it because that just isn't how I feel.

My other concern is that if the photo isn't a 'Katie looks out the window poignantly, reflecting on her financial tale of woe', then it'll be more like this:

I had to wear considerably more make-up for the shoot than normal and ended up feeling like Pete Burns on a dress-down day. The make-up artist was lovely and I'm sure in the pictures I'll look perfectly normal (which would explain why I usually look like Boo Radley's paler sister in photographs) but, ooooo, today I wish I could buy up all the copies and see if my expression/general visage is acceptable first (I just used 'visage' casually -- get me!).

I should, of course, be worrying about world peace, global warming or my lack of matching pairs of underwear but, no, I'm afraid it turns out I'm a bit of a cowardy custard when it comes to have my face in the press. Let's just hope I'm smiling. Or wearing less lipstick than Ru Paul. I'd settle for either.

1) Things could always be worse. You could wake up with the same hairstyle as this lady for instance. 

2) My quality of life will not suffer if I buy supermarket own label products. Except the baked beans, which are vile.

3) I am not the sum of my bank account. Which is lucky because otherwise I'd be worth £2.10 and I think I could get at least a fiver, if not £6.

4) It is foolish to cut your own hair with garden scissors.

5) It is foolish to try to steam iron your shirt while you're still wearing it before your meeting with the Official Receiver. They will not be surprised that your finances have crashed if you walk in with a steam burn on your chin.

6) Tinned tomatoes will make you gag if you bulk buy them and eat them for every meal for three weeks. You will, however, save alot on groceries.

*N.B. I know this is a photo of Phil Spector. He does like a creepy old lady here though. Shudder.

 Jacqui from Rainbow Designs has written a great post, Space , about being computer dependent and how to go about giving yourself some breathing space when your life revolves around the keyboard and screen.

I wish I'd read this post a few weeks ago, before I was rudely shunted off the internet and half my blog posts went missing.  

During the last few weeks of internet drought I've realised that I'm suffering from online dependency. Yes, I'm out and I'm proud. I'm addicted to the internet. Me and the rest of the western world.

To combat this affliction Jacqui suggests that we turn off our computers for a full 24 hours each week and take up a hobby... er... ok, but what if blogging and surfing for photos of Britney Spears' bald head are your hobbies? Well that just makes you a saddo. Yes, I'm out and I'm proud.

In fact, the whole time I've been offline I've been thinking about blogging. I've pined for my blog like a lover longs for their paramour. Well, I've missed it a bit anyway.

I mean, I have friends. I have lovely, hilarious friends (Pip and Phil in particular are hysterical. Hysterical funny that is, they aren't racing around their flat screaming or anything like that) but there's something about turning on your computer and checking your emails (Approximate daily email check tally: 25  Approximate daily emails received: 3) that's very satisfying. Every day begins with a promise of excitement: have been offered my own column in Tatler yet? Has some big hearted billionaire decided to donate a couple of million to my 'back on my feet' fund? Nope. Of course not. All I've been offered is help for erectile dysfunction (news to me too) and cheap pharmaceuticals. Many thanks, just what a newly discharged bankrupt needs.

Yes, it's healthy to turn your computer off for 24 hours each week. A bit of space is absolutely essential to develop health and happiness. For me though, I'm off to check whether Bill Gates has made that deposit yet...

 While I was browsing through the She-essence blog one of the posts caught my attention. The very first point on the Every Woman list of things every woman should have is,

I've spent this afternoon attempting to get myself into an acceptable state for tomorrow's photo shoot for YOU magazine.

Since someone seems to have left grey pubes all around my hair line I thought I'd spruce myself up a bit and dye them the same colour as the rest of my hair. I also thought I'd give myself a Californian golden girl glow, a bit like Elle McPherson I thought. Great idea, I said to myself, cover your pubes (which is a rule to live by in itself) and get a tan. Gadzooks! I'll be a glossy-haired, golden-skinned vision of loveliness by the morn! I'll be like Cindy Crawford's better looking sister! I'll be a brunette Heidi Klum! I'll spit in the face of Jennifer Lopez and call her 'fugly'! Ha! What joy! What excitement!

What a load of crap.

I slapped on the fake tan with gusto, in fact it was quite hard work by the time I'd got to my face. My forehead had already got a nice little line of 'Nice and Easy Light Golden Brown' around it so I had to work carefully to try to blend my 'tan' in with my tide-mark. I wonder how Cindy manages it?

Finally, a bit out of breath after trying to reach the centre of my back with the handy 'difficult to reach areas' sponge on a stick so helpfully provided by St Tropez (The handy sponge is absolutely useless and looks like it cost about 2p to manufacture. How generous to give it away free with the £30 fake tan. Wow.), I settled down to let Nice and Easy and St Tropez transform me into a bankrupt beauty. I could hardly wait.

Unfortunatelt, on checking my reflection in the mirror about five minutes ago (Cindy? Are you there yet?) two shocking thoughts occurred to me. The first was the strange grey shade of the St Tropez tan... should I really be looking like I've just cleaned a chimney with my face? I wouldn't panic too much if I hadn't had the bottle for about two years, bought in my pre-bankruptcy days when spending what now amounts to almost my week's disposable income on fake tan didn't seem quite so ridiculous. What if it's gone off and I've just daubed the stuff all over myself in readiness for a photo shoot with one of the most popular magazines in the UK?

I can just see the by-line now, "The Lady in the Red, talks about going bankrupt and why her skin's so pale that she has to use rancid fake tan in an effort to make herself look less like a Beetlejuice impersonator." Given that the article's about bankruptcy it'll look like I can't even afford to have a wash. Just the effect I was going for. Bankrupt AND poor personal hygiene. Excellent.

The second thing I realised when I checked on my 'beauty' preparations was that the shade 'light golden brown' of my hair colour was turning out to be 'turd brown'. Even better. Why did I agree to this bloody photo shoot? I'm going to look like Boo Radley wearing a Morticia Addams wig. I would cry if the fake tan bottle didn't say that contact with water in the first four hours after application would cause streaking.

I'm off to use my mum's microdermabrasion kit to see if rubbing the top layer of my skin off will make me look any better. In the meantime, any donations of fake tan remover will be gratefully accepted.

Posted @ 14:17:37 on 27 August 2007  back to top

This blog has recently been included as a featured blog on Bloggapedia.  Naturally, I'm delighted that my talent for insolvency is being recognised by readers more further afield than my mum and dad's house, but I was a touch bewildered by the description of my former business as selling 'adult nappies'. Okaaay. In actual fact, my company sold disposable industrial clothing to the health and food industries, which would include adult incontinence-wear but certainly not exclusively so. But hey ho, it's just a slight inaccuracy based, I think, on my mention of my least favourite aspect of the job (I once really did have to discuss the absorption qualities of an adult incontinence product with a customer. I bet JLo can't say that for herself) but they've obviously taken that as the general nature of the business.

 Only 27 days to go until the end of my bankruptcy and I'm still fielding calls from debt collection agencies. 

I've found, even this late in my bankruptcy day, that the research skills of debt collection agencies leave much to be desired. I've been bankrupt for almost a year now, my time's nearly up, but still one of my dormant accounts is being sold on to collection firms for them to apply increasingly harsh 'negotiation' tactics to try to recoup their costs.

Two days ago I received a letter from a debt collection agency I'd never had dealings with before. They were introducing themselves, letting me know that they were the proud new owners of my debt and telling me to take legal advice from a solicitor immediately. Apparently I was to pay the invoice as soon as I received the letter or action would be taken against me (my old bailiff buddies, no doubt).  

I went and got one of the copies of my bankruptcy certificate (all those years in education and this is the one I use the most. My gran will be tutting and shaking her head as I type) and folded it with a copy of the letter I'd received to send to the collection agency. Now, some of you reading this may not have any experience of debt collection agencies, so you may not know how thoroughly unpleasant it can be to have to speak to one of their representatives. I'm not sure where they find, or train, these people but I imagine that a requisite qualification for the job is an ASBO.

I thought, however, that I should call them just to make sure that they didn't send round one of their henchmen. So I called. The man who answered the phone seemed okay to begin with. He took my reference number, accessed my account and I told him that I'd been bankrupt for nearly a year and had no idea why my account was still being sold on since it shouldn't even still be active with me being well and truly financially finito and all. I must have said the wrong thing because the okay man on the phone took an irritated tone.

"Well, the official receiver didn't inform us." He snapped.

"I've no idea if my official receiver informed you or not but I do know that nearly a year ago, when I was first made bankrupt, I sent a copy of my certificate to every debt collection agency that owned my account at that time. Since the letter you've sent me was an introductory letter, it seems that you've bought an account without checking the insolvency register first. You really shouldn't be contacting me at all, let alone threatening me with legal action."

I'd just realised that I'd run out of Weetabix, it really was the wrong day to be speaking to me. I wasn't rude, I wasn't snappy, and I didn't raise my voice, but my official receiver's really nice so I didn't want to be listening to no fool disrespecting her. Apparently the agency representative didn't want to be listening to me either because it quickly transpired that I was chatting away to a dead-line. Enjoyed speaking to you too.

This experience, as tame as debt collection experiences go, wouldn't have been too bad if it hadn't have been followed by a further call today. This time a woman asked to speak to me, claiming to be from a company I've never heard of and as soon as I told her she was speaking to me, she told me the company she was actually calling from. These people are obviously used to people trying to hide from them. I wonder why when they're so lovely to deal with? Who wouldn't want to speak to people who put the phone down on you, lie about who they are and try to use dubious tactics to get into our homes. They're so misunderstood.

Anyway, I told the woman that I'd already spoken to a representative from their agency only a couple of days before and had even sent her a copy of my bankruptcy order for good measure. I explained to her that she really shouldn't be contacting me at all. Debt collection girl (to make her sound like a really shit not-so-super-hero) was, just like her colleague, just rude, rude, rude. "If you aren't on the list I'll be checking, I'll be back." Oh, I'm sorry, I thought Arnie was the governor of California now not working for a debt collection agency. It seems I had inadvertently become indebted to the Terminator.

I knew the list she was referring to was the insolvency register. Unfortunately, I'm definitely on it. I told her as much and I put the phone down on her. Ha. A small revenge but no less sweet. I also checked the patio window repeatedly to make sure Linda Hamilton wasn't standing there toting a semi-automatic.

 Reading an old comment from a reader of the business blog Phoenix from the Ashes has inspired me to write about one of the widespread misconceptions about bankruptcy: the common belief of the easy way out.

Like the yeti or the Loch Ness Monster, the 'I took the easy option to wipe my debts' bankrupt is a much talked about yet little seen phenomenon.

While newspaper headlines trumpet about a new 'easy way out' mentality among debtors (e.g. Bankruptcy 'It's an Easy Way Out. I can Start Afresh'  in The Independent, 16 February 2005), and IVA companies continue to use every form of media to bombard us with advertisements offering, what they suggest is, a remarkably easy way to cast off 75% of unwanted debt, it's easy to believe that all this is actually the case.

It isn't.

In reality people who go bankrupt have done so because they have absolutely no other choice. In the vast majority of cases a person who declares themself bankrupt has tried every other avenue avilable before they've been forced to finally commit to the inevitable. Such a desperate situation may well be difficult for others, who have never been there themselves, to understand but that's exactly what the situation is for most people dealing with insolvency: desperate. They don't call it 'financial distress' for nothing.

In his groundbreaking 2005 bankruptcy courts survey, John Tribe, of the Centre for Insolvency Law and Policy at the University of Kingston, found that, despite the widespread arguments to the contrary, bankruptcy remains a distressing ordeal for the overwhelming majority of people.

"There appears to be as much of a stigma attached to bankrupts as there was 500 years ago when they were labelled ‘evil-minded’ by the Bankruptcy Act of 1543,” Mr Tribe said.  “It is certainly not as easy an option as some lending institutions would make out – in fact most people would do anything to avoid becoming bankrupt to the point where some take drastic measures.”

We may have stopped putting people unfortunate enough to have been made bankrupt in the stocks but we still like to make sure they've suffered. Bankruptcy means loss. Emotionally just as much as financially.

Today's Daily Express carried an article with the headline 'I'm Living the Millionaire Life Without the Salary'.

The story described the lifestyle of Victoria Molony, a 21 year-old who spent all her wages (and some of gran's pension according to the story) on the pursuit of the ubiquitous WAG lifestyle.

We've all heard stories like this many times before, but what struck me about this particular young woman's account was the break down of her monthly spending, which accompanied the article. It isn't included in the online version of the article so I'll repeat it here:

How It All Adds Up - Victoria's Monthly Take Home Pay (£1400)                                         

What She Spends: Clothes/Shoes/Accessories: £500, Hair: £100, Gym: £50, Beauty Treatments: £60, Sunbeds: £40, Nights Out With the Girls: £150, Meals Out With Boyfriends: £70, Books and Magazines: £45, Food Shopping: £60, Lunches: £100, Mobile Phone: £50, Cosmetics/Toiletries: £70, Credit Card Repayments: £100, GRAND TOTAL: £1,395

I'm going to avoid all the usual exclamations of what a poor grasp on basic financial sense young people have these days and instead, just cut to the chase: where DOES this girl drink?

Anyone who reads this blog regularly will aleady know that, since I was declared bankrupt last August, for most of the weekend evenings I've been staying in with only my laptop and threadbare dressing gown for company. That's bankruptcy glamour for you.

It doesn't take a genius to work out that I've been staying in because I can't afford to do anything else. Like a real-life Mrs Havisham, I've remained inside, clinging on to the final vestiges of my former glorious solvent life until the happy day arrives when I can finally afford to venture out into polite society again (picture me, in my old apartment, wearing a moth-eaten old MaxMara dress and a pair of ancient Jimmy Choos, dust sheets over all the mirrors because when I last saw my reflection I threw my hands up to my face and screamed "Who is this meaty-faced beast? Get her away! AWAY!"). I can't help but feel cheated that this wannabe WAG, Victoria, has discovered the cheapest bar in the Western World.

Seriously, have a look at her list of expenses. In the article she claims 'I still enjoy nights out with my girlfriends at the weekend. I can easily spend a small fortune drinking champagne and cocktails with the girls and also enjoy eating out with my boyfriend, Seth, a couple of times a week.' Hmmm. Champagne? Cocktails? Every weekend? In London? My word, that must be one HUGE bar tab.... and yet it's only £150 a month! Come again? Anyone reading an article on personal finance will be clued up enough to know that weekly nights out drinking champagne and cocktails would come to an awful lot more that £150. As for her figure of £70 for the total cost of her twice weekly meals out with her boyfriend, unless they're going to the restaurant of the golden arches (want fries with that?), then she's way off the mark.

I'm not suggesting that Miss Molony is purposefully lying about her expenditure but I do suspect that she has no idea how much things actually cost and therefore has no idea how much she's actually spending. Isn't it funny that the grand total of her monthly expenses comes to exactly five pounds under the amount of her monthly take home pay? Could Victoria be funding her lavish lifestyle with a bit of the old credit? Is she is, she'll be swapping glasses of champagne for glasses of council pop on a Saturday night in a few years time, when she's staying in, in a soon-to-be-repossessed flat, clad a dressing gown instead of a designer dress wondering who the meaty-face in the mirror is. Don't do it, Victoria. You can get your bank balance back to its former glory after bankruptcy but you'll have a harder job recovering the contours of your jawline. I speak from experience.

Yay! Louise from My Journey to Eliminate Debt has nominated me for a Rockin' Girl Blogger award! Thanks, Louise! Of course, it actually makes it more difficult to nominate five of my favourite female bloggers because I'd have nominated Louise as one of them! So many decisions! So many exclamation marks! !!!!!! ! With this, along with my post of the day the other day from The Rising Blogger, I feel like Ricky Gervais must have when he cleaned up at the Emmy awards last year... or something like that, since actually I'm only a broke-ass blogger who's only been nominated for two online awards rather than a multi-millionaire global celebrity who's been nominated for every award short of an Oscar. Still, you get my drift.

So, here are my five nominations for 'Rockin' Girl Bloggers' (minus Louise, but she's in there in spirit!):

SuperAli at Not This Blog Either  because she maintains four blogs and kicks ass. And she likes Ladies in the Red, so she's obviously a wonderful human being.

Bossy at i am Bossy because her use of the word 'turd' in this guest post for Joy Unexpected  made me wee my pants a bit. Only a bit. Don't judge me on it.

Kelly Bejelly at A Girl Worth Saving for saying a stern "goodbye" to credit-card bills and a cheery "hello" to sustainable living. Her dogs may poop on her potential vegetable garden but she's kicked her credit-cards for good.

Sara Noel at Frugal Village for helping me not only to acknowledge my inner tightwad but to whole-heartedly embrace the miser inside me. In fact, my miser and I have grown to love each other. We just don't go out to dinner. Or buy flowers. Or presents. Just like having a real boyfriend then. 

Bokker at Waste of Rubbish because she can make the most everyday occurrence sound hilarious. She also touches my heart with her posts about her sister, Helen. Her latest post made me realise what a luxury it is that bankruptcy is the worst thing that's happened to me.

 Yesterday I was awarded The Rising Blogger Post of the Day for Story of a Girl Gone Bust. There I was thinking that only four people read this site regularly when now I know there are at least five! Hurrah!

Anyway, to the lovely ladies at The Rising Blogger I'd like to say thank you very much, you made my day!

As a novelist who likes cake at Becketts, walks in Whitby and quotes from T.S. Eliot, you'd be forgiven for imagining that Alison Anthony spends her days sipping Earl Grey while she plots her latest book. You'd be wrong. This lady kicks some serious ass.

In her most recent posts, like a literary female Clark Kent, Ali transforms from lyrical and poetic writer into the nemesis of debt collectors .While her writing's always beautiful, Ali is clearly hopping mad with the underhand tactics of debt collection agencies who use bullying and threatening tactics on the vulnerable. Just as Metropolis needs Superman, debt-laden Britain needs people like Ali, who're willing to stand up to those who aren't able to stand up for themselves.

In yesterday's post, Ali writes, "Because you know and I know that someone living alone, too old to fight, too polite to do anything other than defer to the caller, is an 'easy target'. It could be your mother, or your grandmother. It could be your neighbour. When something gets me angry, I get angry. The thought of that old lady, coping alone with taunts and threats -- I'm angry now. I have a nursing background. I do not tolerate abuse of vulnerable people and, when I see it, or read, or hear about it, I will do everything in my power to stop it from happening."

That's fighting talk, and we like it! As more people get into debt, and as more people are unable to meet every payment (and even many people who aren't in debt at all but just have the misfortune of living at a previous address of someone on a debt collector's books) of those debts, debt collection agencies will become more and more widespread. Let's make sure that they are forced to abide by rules of conduct instead of playing by their own rules.Let's support Ali in her mission to stop some debt collection agencies from employing underhand tactics to do their business. Any of us, or those we love, could one day find ourselves on the receiving end of their threats and bullying. Let's tell them to pack it in.

Sigh.

Yes, I know I'm bankrupt.

I know I've had lots of lovely things in my life so I shouldn't grumble.

But, Lord, how I'd love a couple of new tops. Or shoes. Oooh, I'd love a pair of new shoes.

Sensible, sturdy footwear just doesn't look the part on a Saturday night. Even if that Saturday is spent at home, sprawled on the sofa in my dad's dressing gown, eating Crunchy Nut cornflakes out of the packet.

I don't want to be a whinger but even bloody Huggy Bear's wardrobe is more up-to-date than mine. Besides, he carries off a pastel plaid with much more chutzpah than I ever could.

For one day I'd like to be more high-fashion than low-budget. I mean, forget the property repossession (pah!), the car-napping (hah!... erm... actually it was a legal possession by the finance company, but still, how rude!), and the numerous other losses and inconveniences caused by bankruptcy, the real tragedy of being bankrupt, the real sting in the insolvency tail, is the forced loss of fashion-sense. Who wants to be 28 and dressed like your Nan? No one, that's who. Especially when your Nan thinks that plastic rain-hood is both chic and functional (Ahh, she's so cute, and only 4'8" too! I feel like Gulliver with a Lilliputian when I stand next to her).

It's okay though, I'll battle forth. I'll put my best foot forward and march on. I'll just keep my eyes averted from the footwear. Sob.

Louise will be as horrified as I am to learn that since Gordon Ramsey supported the tripe's return to the dinner table,