Have you ever stumbled upon a hidden gem in Dublin where, as soon as you cross its threshold you feel as if you’ve entered a time warp.? This was my experience last Saturday when I happened upon one such place, appropriately named ‘Ladies Man.’ After popping my proverbial brunch cherry and eating a mountain of delectably fried goods in the incredible Whitefriar Grill, my loved one and I chanced upon an intriguing looking shop/boutique/imaginarium of curiosities on the way back to our Nissan Bluebird (I know! And no, you may not buy it) on Whitefriar Place. What ensued next was magical. The door of Ladies Man was opened by an impeccably dressed, delightfully camp Brazilian man. Initially, the feeling was one of trepidation. I felt like Manny from Black Books being lured by the hairy photographer with the beard fetish, but unlike Manny, whose short-lived life of expensive fur coats, satin sheets and crinkle-cut chips in silver bowls was at a price, this was sheer love at first enchantment, no strings attached. The ostentatiously dressed tanned beauty was like a vision from Knock, or maybe Medjugorje, whichever is more exotic; a sign from the Gods that sartorial heaven exists! An exquisite cabaret of the senses, this wunderkammer was filled with eclectic books, clothes, dolls, trinkets and beautiful, stylish men creating hairdressing masterpieces whilst sipping on yerba mate tea from calabash gourds. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, my retinae burned from the enveloping fabulousness, forgoing any sense of proper foraging, I wandered around feeling dizzy from the sensual arousal I was experiencing until I heard a faint; ‘Mary, Mary, look at this.’
It was my love. He was speaking in tongues after locking eyes with the most wonderful sequinned bomber jacket known to mankind. His eyes said; ‘Mary, you must have this. His lips said; ‘Ah goo juy, rocathchuy fanphlasma,’ or something along those lines. Michael Jackson himself would have been weak. In faint, dizzying steps, I made my way towards the jacket and slipped my arms inside. The entire population of the store was stopped in their tracks. It fit perfectly. Without forewarning, I started moon-walking and singing a medley of Thriller, Billie Jean, Smooth Criminal and an array of Wacko Jacko’s greatest hits. The dogs in the street were singing to my tune telling me to buy this jacket and what a find; it was only forty bad boys! Paired with my Whistles ‘Feminin’ jumper and my high waisted Topshop Joni jeans and a pair of holographic slip-ons, it is impossible not to dance in this outfit.
Not only did I pick up this bitchin’ outfit, I was also introduced to the stylist Walmes Rangel who told me he has worked with ‘The Androgyny.’ I’m not quite sure what he meant but he showed me some wonderful pictures of a drag queen in the most exquisitely outrageous make-up which he himself designed. Being a huge fan of Ru Paul’s Drag Race, this only made the whole experience even more titillating. I wore this jacket out last Saturday paired with my MAC Rebel lipstick, a River Island cropped polo neck and black skinny jeans and some OTT naked palette eyeshadow and if i do say so myself, I felt like a superhero.
Jacket: Ladies Man, Whitefriar place, €40. Facebook here.
Jeans: Topshop Joni jeans, approx €55, available here.
Jumper: Whistles, €35, reduced from €100, available here.
Shoes: Holographic slip-ons: €17 from Office, available here.