Writing Exercise - Timeless Classics (1984)

It was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston’s Smith’s nipples were like bullets, piercing the bland shirt that covered his emaciated torso. His clothes were unfathomably boring, all greys and whites. How Winston was crying out for a splash of colour – maybe some new red cowboy boots or a nice feather boa. You know, to inject some class into proceedings. He looked around him for fashion inspiration and yet found nothing, each passing stranger looking blander than the last. Winston wondered what the Airstrip One Fashion Show, on next week at the Ministry of Really Nice Clothes, would be filled with. Surely not this drab shit, he hoped. Winston was desperate to break free of this nightmare world and express his feelings in the only way he knew how…with fierce threads.