Many people have told me that blondes can’t wear yellow. My usual response is: ‘They also say you can’t wear sudocreme on your face but that didn’t stop my sister in the 80s.’ Would ‘they’ (who is this collective shower of prigs anyway that sets these ridiculous rules in stone?) tell Riccardo Tisci that facial lace isn’t de rigeurs? And Pat McGrath to dream on? Would ‘they’ tell Alexander Wang, the death knell has tolled for the branded logo? Would ‘they’ tell Demna Gvasalia that diaper-butt jeans are purely in the purview of those suffering a severe case of infantilism? They wouldn’t dare. Ok, so perhaps my sister’s love of facial sudocreme isn’t directly comparable with Givenchy’s lace facial embellishment but you get the point. I’m currently reading Marie Kondo‘s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying. Her expert advice suggests de-cluttering your house by discarding anything that ‘doesn’t bring you joy.’ Well, yellow has always brought me joy, as has faux fur, MC-Hammer style baggy dungarees and pink. So I say, throw out all the fashion rules and in the words of Iris Apfel; ‘it’s better to be happy than to be stylish.’ Coming from one of my fashion icons, this manifesto is one to live by. Fashion should be fun, whether it’s donning a multi-coloured faux fur popsicle from Charlotte Simone (currently skyrocketing to the top of my wish-list) or channeling Tupac in a bad-ass bandana (even Man Repeller‘s jumped on this trend train) or trying out wet-look hair (there’s a blog post coming on this trainwreck). I love looking back at old photos and laughing over all my fashion mistakes: The faux red dreads I had in the 90s, the chavtastic Burberry bucket cap worn with corduroy jeans and a vintage sweat top and the matchy-matchy floral leggings-tee-headband combos I wore as a child in the 80s. I’m glad I grew up before GHDs were invented because this was an era where crimping, ironing and bedazzling your hair with glitter hair mascara was the order of the day! Pip, pip, old chap!
I also used to feel that blouses were a bit ‘Mumsy.’ And yes, this is quite a grown up look for me considering I spent this Sunday wearing a leopard print polo with a Michael J. Fox-esque denim vest, vinyl leggings and converse. I might add that the denim vest/waistcoat/gilet is particularly gick but I god-damn LOVE it! Since I love to lounge around the house in a Juicy Couture tracksuit (in a totally ironic way though, so it’s fine), it’s fun to emerge from my comfort zone once in a while and by that I mean immediately contract multiple kidney infections from wearing no tights in the cold. What is with the fash-pack’s aversion to tights? Angela Scanlon, that stone cold Irish fashion fox, when pictured on Vogue’s online feature Today I’m Wearing, went bare-legged in almost every shot. No mean feat, considering it was December and she lives in London. Ouch! Since I enjoy proclaiming how cold I am at regular intervals, perhaps this is my one-way ticket to martyrdom? It’s not as if I a) could do what most people call ‘walk’ in these shoes or b) have legs that are just dying to get out but heck, there’s something terribly un-fashion about black tights, isn’t there?
I’m having a major love affair wit H&M right now and my entire outfit is H&M, bar the shoes, socks and bag which are all Primark. The great thing about these shoes is that my Dad had to carry me around on his arm all day – I felt quite proud that he would go to those lengths for me to suffer for my fashion! I decided in anticipation of St. Patrick’s Day I would go patriotic with my makeup palette so I teamed some orange Bobbi Brown lip with green eye-shadow. Supermac’s shamrock milkshakes at the ready, please!