I’ve got a whole section of my wardrobe dedicated to safe bets that I don like warm blankets. The thing is though, my go to roll neck and jeans combo begins to feel a little tired the fifth time in a row and isn’t exactly the most emotionally or aesthetically rewarding. It’s not just the clothes that begin to feel tired. I do too.
Don’t get me wrong. I straight up love a style uniform. For me though I find it better to lean in to this with colour (it’s a long standing joke among my girls and I that I dress the equivalent of a human bruise) rather than shape. Moving flat made me reevaluate my entire wardrobe. I had to be unrelentingly brutal with what could fit in my new wardrobe (even with a little imagination that did turn all of my room in to an extended version of that.) As a result I wear everything more because, well, I know what I’ve got. Nothing tucked away only to resurface 3 years later any more. And that was how I got my style mojo back.
I LOVE playing dress up. One of my favourite things in the world. But I fell out of love with it. And myself. I hated having my photo taken (still not my favourite thing in the world tbh) and just felt like my wardrobe lacked any oooomph. A girl can only have so many striped tops y’know? However stripping back allowed me to reevaluate everything I had, identify gaps and really begin to actually play with clothes again. And that meant finally making sure of the Larissa Hadjio bag I bought at the blogger market from Queen Michelle. It meant saying “fuck it” and wearing the sheer bodysuit and not caring if it was too titty. It meant bright colours and pastels that I wasn’t entirely sure if it matched but kind of loving it anyway.
So I guess I’m a maximalist who learnt a little bit from stripping down my wardrobe – and as a result that’s made me fall back in love with fashion again. Thank fuck for that.