red and yellow and pink and green...

In the past week or so, those sparse few days filled with sunshine (although still chilly) have put me in the most optimistic of moods. Thoroughly inspired by my current fashion and styling unit allowing me to take a more hands-on approach to work. Cutting and sticking once more! I am beyond excited for the lightness of spring and the idealism of summer. I’m hardly a sufferer of seasonal affective disorder, rather enjoying wrapping up warm, the fantasy of winter and being able to wear opaques over my surely radioactive-shade-of-pale pins, but there's no doubt everyone enjoys the dogs days of summer.

Thoroughly filled with anticipation for the upcoming seasons, I’m looking on the bright side and focusing my styling unit on the positive rainbow of colours engulfing the Highstreet. Wanting my six-photograph fashion story to be filled with kitsch girly cuteness (involving mostly garden associated props) with the bright colours of spring against a stark white background.

As a person, I embrace colour, I am drawn to bright things, Marrakech was a positive orgasm for the eyes, and more recently, wandering around the shops and spotting a luminous display of Crayola coloured tops and skirts in Zara was a treat for the peepers. In regards to my own wardrobe, I do tend to veer towards the more mundane, although my prized possession remains a sequinned jacket I discovered in a vintage shop in Paris (Ooh la la) which looks as if Lady GaGa has been sick all over, the mix of bright colours making it a true masterpiece.

You see, with my rather red head, I tend to steer clear of bright colours in case the clash equals trash, but recently, I’ve been thinking, 'fuck it' quite frankly. And to be honest, although loving the colour of my hair (and secretly the attention I get because of it, although cringey and tremendously annoying at times) the effort to maintain it is getting preeetty trying now. Time for a change me thinks, once dressing up as Misty from Pokemon for a friend's 'dress up as something I like fancy dress birthday shin-dig' has been and gone. Then the block colour, block party can commence!

Until anon x

aging disgracefully

As I was walking home the other day from my usual poodling in town, a thought struck me: just how grateful I am to be at the age where I could, potentially wear absolutely anything, and again, potentially get away with it. Which ponders the question, how much time do I have left of bum hugging 'aeroplane' skirts (so short you can see the cockpit) leopard print tights, brightly coloured jumpers and mad leggings before it becomes horrendously trashy? (I am aware that that list already sounds horrendously trashy.)

I can't remember where I heard/read this, but recently someone somewhere remarked that by age 25 she couldn't possibly wear a mini skirt, which sounds scarily young to be banishing the pins away for ever more! That’s only four years! Only four years of sexy sexy small skirts! Now I imagine transforming into some sort of Bet Lynch, Zandra Rhodes hybrid, and I must say I am genuinely a-okay with this predicament. I like seeing old, wrinkled ladies with brightly coloured hair and miss-matching clothes and I do, absurdly like to think 'Ooh that's what I’ll look like when I’m old!'

I can't imagine having to limit my clothing to only the garments deemed 'suitable' for my age, not that I wear absolutely everything now, there are certain things I just can't get away with (bodycon being the main offender). Perhaps once I am older I won't want to wear all the things I wear now, but I hope that's not the case. To be honest, I rather enjoy mutton dressed as lamb, so long as we're not delving into the realms of obscenity.

Until anon x