I am currently in a lot of pain – like a lot. I’m allergic to soy and accidentally ate some soy last week (it was used as an emulsifier in some gluten free profiteroles and I forgot to check the ingredients list as I was trying to hide them from Ben in the shopping basket, so y’know – karma.), and have been suffering in not-much-silence ever since.
So, I figured I’d distract myself with thoughts of pretty things of long-gone-days-gone-by. Is it working? Not really, but hey-yo, on we go!
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me how much I love fashion – especially shoes, gloves, and hats.
To me, fashion is a creative outlet – spending time to find the right pieces to create the perfectly curated outfit is just as creative as finding the right words for a story, the right pigments for a painting. Fashion is just another creative medium.
Just as I love to wander galleries, or listen to new music, I love perusing fashion blogs and marveling at the perfectly put together outfits. I love the feeling of velvets, silks and suedes beneath my fingertips, and the sound of crinoline or corduroy make me smile.
Fashion brings together the aesthetic, the tactile and the sensual – is it any wonder women love it so much?
And because I am not a fashion blogger, but because I am passionate about these things, these are my three fondest, strongest memories of my evolving style from when I was young.
My Ruby Shoes
I was six years old, shopping with my mother in Phoenix Plaza, Liverpool, waiting for a dentist appointment. Next to the dentistry was a large oriental furniture and decor store, full of rich red hues, polished brass, and lacquered wood. It was in this store that I saw them – bright red patent court shoes with a small heel (appropriate for a six year old!), and a bow on the toe. I begged my mother to buy them for me, and she did, and I wore them every chance I could. In fact, dress-up day at school I went as a princess, decked out in pink with red accessories, purely so I could wear my beautiful ruby shoes.
My Gingham Hat
Age nine, my mother and I were at Paddy’s Markets, Flemington, when I saw a black and white gingham bucket hat. I loved the hat so much I used my own pocket money to purchase it (it was $8) and then convinced my mother to sew me a circle skirt made of matching fabric. I’d wear the hat and skirt with my black character shoes (I had been forced to quit classical ballet, so had no other reason to wear them), and a black body suit. I was invincible in this outfit. Absolutely unstoppable.
My White Gloves
It was my first holy communion, and like the other girls my age I was bedecked in a brilliant white confection of a dress full of lace and ruffles, however I couldn’t tell you much more of the dress – I think it had long white, stiff satin cuffs at the wrist that fastened with small satin teardrop buttons? However, I do remember the white fishnet gloves I loved so much, and how stylish and grown up I felt wearing them in church that day. I also remember a teacher, I can’t remember who exactly, rushing to my side as I was about to take communion, and telling me I had to remove my gloves before I could proceed. I was most displeased, and there was some serious side-eyeing happening down the aisle that day.
What are your strongest, most vivid memories involving fashion?