I read Marie Kondo’s ‘The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying’ pretty much on one bus journey, and while my house will probably always be messy, there’s some interesting approaches to wardrobe clutter there. Number one being that you have to respect all your clothes, treat them well, and even thank them for their job – which is pretty hard when you’re just wearing stuff you feel obliged to. Coupled with spending a lot less downtime looking at ASOS et al, I really want to narrow shit down by the time I’m 30. Which is less than a year btw (yep, I also had a birthday).
When I say ‘narrowing shit down’, I do not mean that I’m gonna exclude things like snakeskin Reebok Classics. In fact, the amount of botanical-print stuff in the shops right now is tiring out even an avowed tropical devotee like me, so I gotta go elsewhere for my decoration. I wore these with grey trousers, black jumper, blacker jacket, and purple lipstick – as far as I’m concerned, that’s minimalism.
In probably the most seismic change, I had a proper hair cut for the first time in ages. Partly because reasons and partly for the hell of it, but I like life in jaw-length land (I realise I’m wearing a hat in the ‘after’ photo, but you’ll see more of it soon enough). These photos were taken in a fairly warm spell in March, but let’s just pretend I’m not that late.
I also went to Florida and Copenhagen, although my ‘proper’ camera didn’t, so you can enjoy this fairly obnoxious poolside snap. Promise I won’t leave you behind next time…
Aside from doing a good amount of walking, pub-lunching and holding my phone in the air for signal, I also spent a fair bit of time on holiday tapping out thoughts on A/W style. That whole back-to-school feeling that sees me trying to be all new-year, new-you. It’s why I first plucked my eyebrows fifteen years ago, why I walked into AS-level Psychology with half my hair cut off (literally, these were the asymmetric years) and why I really, really believe I’m gonna grow up this time. I’ll wear ironed clothes and have neat hair and not be distracted by silly crap OH WAIT THERE’S A HOT DOG JUMPER!
Whatyougonnado? Who knows what is hardwired in my brain to love trash, but it’s a strong urge. I mean, hell I was window-shopping Cos this morning but you just can’t beat it out of me.
Of course, there’s trash and there’s trash. I’m well aware that these River Island doozies have turned up after a long long trickle-down of all-over-print items and I’ve seen some polyester sweatshirts up close – full-on Monets. I’ve also had a bad experience as regards hot dog print – this Ashish for Topshop number had the most bizarre shape that just would not sit right.
If they’re decent IRL, the decision rests on hot dog vs macaron. I prefer the former to eat a million times over but the sheer brash UFO-ness of the latter is calling out to me. It’s so far removed from the muted, bokeh-laden images of macarons that litter t’internet that I feel pretty alright about it. Elsewhere on my RI browse, I was hoping from the still-life that this little number said ‘Pickles Youth’, but alas it doesn’t. Probs for the best, eh.
Back in London, and I have been for a few days. Making the switch from a week without internet (not just wi-fi, no nuffin’) to deskbound London makes me realise there’s a whole ‘nother timescale going on here – one which means your intentions to blog one day somehow end up publishing themselves four days later. ANYWAY. I’ve got charity stuff to show you, and a/w musings, and all manner of fun will be had.
For now though, arriving fifteen minutes early for a burgerfest resulted in a purchase which might have kicked off my new season as it will go on, in terms of Boring (Good Boring) and Cheap. A navy piqué sweatshirt from American Apparel for £15 in the sale, the perfect accompaniment to the collars in your life – and I’ve got a lot of them.
Picture above is from the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path, which I highly recommend if you’re a fan of walking on the edge of cliffs/being blown about somewhat. Best topped off with a cheese sandwich and millionaire shortbread from the Spar – just trust me on that one.
So apparently the heatwave is over, just in time for my British holiday (no it is NOT a bloody ‘staycation’) – but there’s still enough sun for me to wear stuff I bought at the height of stickiness. This H&M dress is a style I’ve been seeking out for years, but have been foiled by overenthusiastic step hems, non-hip-friendly sizing, and general wrong-place, wrong-time. £7.99 later and I’m finally the proud owner of a sack, and no I shall not be Belting It To Emphasise My Waist.
Despite my friendly photographer declaring the above picture “looks like you have a boob on your shoulder or something” I think it illustrates the outfit alright. Those glowing white things on my feet are actually Reebok Classics, surprisingly hard to wear when you’re not an Ashish model but I’m soldiering on.
Alongside my outfit I have the results of a scintillating Friday night, spent with a bit of matte topcoat and my Spectacular nail stickers – from ’97, which I cannot bring myself to call vintage. I read somewhere or other that words-on-nails is gonna be A Thing, but I dunno if this is quite what they had in mind. Not sure what the general consensus is on smiley faces with headphones on, as below (and more visible on Instagram) but they’re making me happy.
I can’t say I was planning to buy anything this week, but sometimes things just work out that way. Feeling generally sweaty, bored and in the grip of payday fever, I stumbled into Aida on Shoreditch High St and straight into the arms of their summer sale – where I found this dear little cap-sleeved Petit Bateau number. 100% cotton and drop-armholes looked very good to me in my post-work sweat haze (too stinky to try it on) so off the rail it came.
Went a bit all-out with the greens in this outfit, because why the hell not? I’ve had this skirt for five years now after finding it in a vintage rummage sale, albeit worn in a few different guises – back in ’08 this was all the rage *cough*. The shoes provide a bit of a counterpoint to all the tropicalia, and complement the full swishiness of the skirt – which also HAS POCKETS just in case you weren’t yet feelin’ it.
This is at its heart the same outfit as the last one I posted – elastic waists are my friend and maybe yours. I’ll worry about variation when I can survive in more than one layer, if that’s cool with you.
The second in a sporadic round of outfit posts, where I’m on my way to eat Alinazik kebab. HI. There’s nothing to be said for any styling going on here – my hair’s the result of doing absolutely nothing, and my wonky top half is a Sunday afternoon special – but this is illustrative of a lot of my warm-weather dressing. Topshop’s skater skirts from the Tall section are about as mini as I want to go in the land of no tights, and grey marl is the best neutral ever. I got the top in Wales for 50p, and my Primark sunglasses for not much more. The faux-Vans are something I bought from New Look because they were cheap and I was bored, but they’re actually a nice everyday summer shoe two years on.
Letting a pattern lead an outfit feels a bit of a cop-out, but my wardrobe does seem to be led by prints I’m into, and easy-to-wear stuff I can use as a canvas. It’s got to the point where it feels weird to go out in block colours, but it might just be the tipping point of pattern fatigue. Except I just tried on a whole host of floral playsuits this weekend… Consistency is hard, alright?
It’s hot, and it’s getting hotter. Day two of this weekend saw me in sandals and flippy shorts, but Saturday I decided to try out my first proper outfit post with a fairly unremarkable combo (soz guys). I could do with a little more practice anyhow, so it starts here. One day we’ll look back, and laugh. Go on! Laugh!
My shirt was a charity shop prize from last year’s family holiday in Dorset (Bridport, to be exact) and I love both its elbow-length sleeves and supremely faded floral/palm print, I’m guessing from a good few years of 60 degree washes with a bit of tumble drying to boot. Now it lives with me in my non-bio eco-wash household, hanging with its more garish brothers and sisters. Shorts are yr bogstandard highwaisted cutoffs, and the shoes are a kind of patent faux-DMs I found one day in River Island (who incidentally, have awesome shoe game). My socks are super but I couldn’t get a good closeup picture… Primark palm print you do me good.
Summer tends to be when all sartorial aspiration goes out the window, and I’m no exception: it’s either this type of baggy top/tight bottom or tight top/flippy bottom combo erryday. I will however aspire to bring you along for the ride, probs on weekends, high days and holidays. Here’s some front-cam gif action (with added Primark shades) to celebrate!
So, the world of skirt lengths is a game of thirds. Mini-midi-maxi goes the chime, but how bout the inbetweenest of them all? Midi’s undergone an astonishing rebrand in a few short years, after everyone discovered it’s the perfect length for teaming with clunky platform boots (not hating, I have these Vagabond beauties and I want to wear them everyday). But what about the knee length love? Apparently it’s raging strong, because I can’t get a good one for love nor money (or y’know, just money).
The definition of knee length seems to be under some debate: Topshop calls em ‘calf skirts’ like they’re trying to promote lower-leg awareness, whilst Motel classifies theirs as a ‘midi’ (I think not). I just like how incredibly easy it is as a length: no requirement for cycling shorts at one end or big shoes at the other. There’s no such thing as ‘good’ knees so I’m all about embracing the knobble with a skirt that does what it’s told, swishes around (or puffs out) and doesn’t leave my mum scratching her head at the sudden drop of my hemlines.
I’ve missed out on the above, but my quest continues – mostly by refreshing Back in Stock pages like an F5 maniac. Eyes on the prize now, eyes on the prize.
Just got these matching pins as a belated birthday present (thanks mate!), and I’ve placed ’em in honour of my (highly limited) late-90s Eastern European film expertise. Black Cat, White Cat is a summer jam – and available in full on YouTube – but I’ll just link the hilariously bad American trailer below. I’m also pretty sure this ridic oversized denim jacket is the kind of thing the film’s stroppy anti-heroine Ida would schlep about in, so there’s that too. When I get a theme, I run with it!