I used to buy some pretty bonkers stuff when I was younger. Like a magpie, I was attracted to anything shiny or covered in sequins or an elaborate brocade. I never gave a fig that it was impractical or I’d have nowhere to wear it. If it caught my eye, I snapped it up.
My favourites were a hot-pink sequin camisole top that I used to wear with the biggest earrings I owned. I also had a pair of baby-pink bootcut trousers I absolutely loved, which I’m
pretty confident were made of some kind of plastic.
Then I got older and found that I had nothing to wear because my wardrobe was filled with silver leather mini-skirts and mint-green asymmetric disco dresses. And so I went too far the other way and only bought things that were grey, white, navy or black. All that I seem to own these days are black dresses, jeans and grey sweaters.
OK, it means I never have any
trouble getting dressed for the day-to-day grind of being a grown-up. But isn’t it a bit boring?
Who have I become? I used to take pride in being the girl at the New Year’s Eve party wearing head-to-toe sequins and a deely-bopper, now I am the one in the same black velvet dress she wore last year. I think I have taken that cost-per-wear equation far too much to heart and now refuse to buy anything unless I can wear it absolutely everywhere and in all weathers and seasons.
The past few Christmasses I have certainly felt very thrifty wearing my black velvet at every single party (it’s dark at parties! No one notices if you always wear the same thing!) but also a little sad, as other women arrive looking like glorious birds of paradise in shimmering matte sequins, satin trousers, jewel-coloured silks and diamanté absolutely everywhere.
Editor: Dulcie Emerson / Photographer: Jonty Davies / Stylist: Alex Steadman / Make-up: Lindsey Poole
Hair stylist: Heath Massi / Manicurist: Emma Welsh