INSPIRATION OVERLOAD: HOW TO SEIZE INSPIRATION

Inspiration; an influence that affects ones person, opinion or actions. 

To inspire and to be inspired fills one with a vigour to incite a change of sorts, whether that be of opinion, of action, of appearance, of tastes... It's an inward manifestation of an outward influence. There are TED talks, podcasts, interactive classes, social media, TV, people watching. The assault on one's senses are boundless, some consciously so, some subconsciously, some to one's betterment, some detrimental. 

Undeniably inspiration is a healthy means of self growth. To endeavour to be openminded is most commendable, though it is tricky to filter the good from the bad, inspiration being indiscriminate. The pressure to internalise these outside stimulators is burdensome and can result in feelings of needing to 'fit in'. What begins as inspiration can easily metamorphose into comparison and intensify as feelings of envy, mediocracy, and inferiority. 

The reality of this was realised for me during a recent trip to London. What began as exciting; things to do, things to see, people bustling, clothes, colours, textures, smells, sounds; rapidly unravelled. My awareness of self was acute, my one too many jumpers exposing my newbie status on the stifling underground, my feet aching in my chelsea boots as trainer clad feet mocked me. 

Discomfort mounted as my outfit felt comparatively try-hard. What began as admiration for those around me, soured to envy and what I envisaged as classic read as boring IRL. Red boots lifted an otherwise basic B!*%$ ensemble, but just barely as the loose fit jeans and blazer were practical, but not practical enough to warrant such a bland ensemble. I was mediocracy incarnate, an outfit that was not a reflection of myself. 

In trying to plan out a version of my 'London' self, I forfeited my actual self, intensifying my discomfort in an unfamiliar place.  When a situation arose that warranted a particular outfit, creativity was extinguished as an impulse to look a certain way stifled any aspiration of personal style. 

Despite being saturated in inspiration, I rather ironically felt a suffocation of sorts. The resultant rendition of myself was barely a whisper of the usual roar of personal style. And on reflection my chosen 'London me' outfit (bandana print neck scarf, a silky cream camisole, vintage jeans, grey checked blazer, red boots and pale pink mini crossover bag) was pretty great. It was an outfit that albeit erred on cautious, though was chic in its simplicity. It was an outfit that I would happily re-wear. And it was an outfit that I now see was not the problem. Rather it was a lack of conviction in self in the face of overwhelming inspiration.    

Yet how does one prevent this self imposed silencing?

Favourite items, aspects of inspirational imagery and a conviction in ones' stylistic proclivities, ground inspiration in a you-ness that prevents feelings of compromise. Utilising one's preexisting wardrobe, incorporating ideas/images/opinions and remaining true to the basic principles of ones' style, results in an authentic version of self that is continually growing and prospering organically, vice altering oneself in a misguided attempt to appease self doubt. 

Imitation should not be mistaken for inspiration. Be open to the new and gravitate to what you like, not what you think you ought to like - now that is truly inspiring. 

(Photos via : fashionista.com, thebusinessoffashion.com & wmagazine.com)

SHEER CLOTHING : LETS GET TRANSPARENT

In a move that can only be described as contrary, my interest in sheer clothing has piqued, as the weather has taken a swift nosedive for the worst. 

Since my return from Barcelona, I have yet to reacclimatise to the cooler weather. Seemingly my week overheating has not only affected my core body temperature, but my fashion proclivities too. This may in part be considered living in denial, but raging against the wind gusts in a defiant move of exposure has been decidedly liberating.

Sheer clothing allows one to rile against the expected, whilst abiding by the social norm of actually getting dressed. One is enabled to live within typical codes of dress and subvert those very norms by the intrinsic ability of sheer clothing to reveal and conceal, exposing the body whilst remaining fully clothed.

The excitement of transparent clothing aside, consideration of apropos should be thought upon beforehand. Job interviews, Church, meeting the parents, the grocery run, are maybe not the scenarios for toe-dipping and all run the very real risk of being met with shock, disdain and some awkward wandering eyes.

 

At entry level, nighttime affords one dim lighting and a sea of flesh on show in a variety of good tastes, cushioning the first bambi steps into sheer clothing. Amongst the backless, strapless, mini dressed peers, sheer clothing feels decidedly less risqué, as skin is hinted at rather than flaunted, a coy peek rather than a brazen glare. 

And when the sun comes up sheer clothing can be made wearable when paired with decidedly less-sexy separates, such as high waisted, loose fit jeans; a sports bra; a blazer; white sneakers etc. The foundation is one of nonchalance, items of the everyday and thus act to subdue any overt sexiness that one may wish to obscure.

The opacity of sheer clothing acts as a means of maintaining the aesthetic of layering during the warmer months, without the suffocation of mounds of fabric. Summertime dressing becomes a little reductive, as fashion is forsaken in an effort to cool down. With layers of transparency, temperatures remain low, yet silhouettes remain visually interesting. The winter can also benefit from sheer clothing, as light fabrics offset thick knitwear - a delicate respite from the bulk of jumpers, cardigans and coats. 

With the prospect of year-round sheer dressing, layering becomes innumerable and infinitely more exciting. Peek-a-boo layers of tulle, lace and chiffon, add a delicacy of substance to an outfit without any hindrance of try-hard overbearing. 

The interest lying in-between the wisps of fabric, acting to softly blur the edges as a somewhat tangible echo of personal style, a transparency of expression. The playful peek of a bra through a sheer t-shirt, a pair of jean-clad legs poking through a sheer skirt, a turtle neck topped with a sheer ruffled blouse. The looks may all be different, but the theme is the same; sheer fun.

(Images via : Getty images, thefashionspot, streetstyle.com & popsugar.co.uk)

HEATWAVE & THE CITY

Dressing in hot weather is difficult.

Dressing in a heatwave is impossible. 

Body temperatures soaring and style stifled. How to translate any fashion prowess when ideally all clothing should be abandoned at the first haze of a heatwave? Everything feels tight, restrictive, a suffocation of expression. This being my recent reality during a city break in the beautiful, though swelteringly oppressive, Barcelona.

Perspiration everywhere, elbows included. Heatwave induced headiness. Underwear too much. Those around, clearly more astute to the wonts of dressing for extreme conditions, donned sports bras (breathable and adept at wicking away sweat) and wisp thin lingerie (the delicacy being barely-there about the skin). 

Spaghetti strapped tops, low backed, cowl necked camisoles. Skin exposure at an optimum - being chic as opposed to gauche - glistening skin an inevitability of soaring temperatures. Loose fit palazzo pants, skimming the body with fluidity - figure flattering being nonsensical under the scrutiny of the sun's rays. Sandals being the obvious pairing to a heatwave, however, being dwarfed by high-rise buildings and in amongst the city's hustle and bustle, trainers are the run-around shoe of choice. Comfort trumping ventilation. 

Exposed legs beating the pavement in a flurry of shorts, from denim to slinky silk. Floaty, ethereal dresses, skirting about the ankles, wrap-over in style, featuring heavily amongst the hubbub of city life. The fabrics light, airy and patterned, maxi dresses of summer proportions to combat the oppressive heat. Accessories redundant; wrists and fingers bare to avoid necessitating surgical removal. The only accoutrement bearable under scrupulous heat being that of a handbag the likes of which Polly Pocket in size. The crowds of Barcelona encouraging thievery, resulting in an influx of combative teeny tiny bags hung about the body, pickpocket proof and sublimely chic.

The lesson endeth with a new appreciation for the pared-back. It would seem that less is most definitely less. Though layering affords more material real-estate for expression, in extreme heat, the visual verbalisation of style is forfeited for the right to not overheat. Though practicality typically snuffs out ones' ability to freely display personal style, in the instance of intense heat, looking stylish is typified by remaining perspiration-free, as opposed to peacocking in current trends and fashion prowess. Tactful exposure is the literal means of dressing cool in amidst the heatwave tizz and with a good dousing of sunblock, I can't think of anything better - or breezier. 

(Photos via : Pinterest)

THE DENIM MINI SKIRT : A BLANK CANVAS

The denim skirt - how unoriginal, right?

I'm not writing about ground breaking trends here, 2018 has given us enough of those already. But we're currently experiencing actual hot weather in the UK and with that, the revelation of legs are upon us.

There is something about bare legs that I find distinctly risqué. I am a trouser aficionado, feeling more comfortable with my stems firmly clothed, not having to worry about positioning all limbs just-so, bracing myself for an unsuspecting gust of wind and at all costs trying to avoid a knickers flash. However, recently I started experimenting with mid length skirts as an introductory foray, a toe dip if you will, into pins-out season. The breeze about my ankles was pleasant and much welcomed in this oppressive heat and soon enough I was tempting hemlines ever shorter, shins and calfs were exposed, knees peaked out and thighs were grazed, which led to the rediscovery of the denim skirt.

The denim skirt has an insouciance similar to that of a Breton top or a brogue. However, I have always fallen short of imbuing this basic with the essence of myself that I feel necessary to do with all of my outfits. Without this 'myselfness', I rather, unsurprisingly, don't feel like myself, which affects my confidence and thus my day-to-day interactions with society. Not to be defeated and coupled with this oppressive heat wave, I decided to push through this self-imposed boundary and actually attempt a denim mini skirt. I can't say that I have made peace with tailored renditions of denim, the noughties flashbacks being all too vivid. However, I have come to the internal compromise of a loose fit, raw hemmed denim skirt, something casual and imbued with nonchalance.

Yet, once this had been decided, I was struck by another obstacle; the illusive partner to the denim skirt. I had always considered the denim mini too basic, like UGGs or bootleg jeans. A fashion faux pas that spoke of stunted style and asphyxiation of inspiration, in short, visual boredom. However, this got me to thinking; what separates the denim mini from a pair of denim jeans? Them being just as basic, if not more so, considered the Everyman staple, appropriate for most occasions and befitting any and all weathers. Once this comparison had been made, an adjustment of mindset ensued. The very blandness that had before spoken only of vanilla, now became a visual signifier of potential. Anything goes: blouses, t-shirts, jumpers, a bikini, dressed up or down, to the beach, to the bar, to lounge in, to adventure in, smartened up, casual-ed down. Little thought enabled an outfit; a lazy girl's 'how-to' in easy dressing without the basic b***h connotations. 

The blank canvas of the denim mini skirt became a palette cleanser of sorts, enabling personal expression to abound. The difference laying in the nuances that separate bland and blank, as in the denim mini skirt being a blank space to project the many facets of personal style and the many renditions of expression it affords one. 

(Photos via : whowhatwear, songofstyle & lovestylemindfulness.co.uk)

THE SPECIFICS OF OCCASION WEAR

Occasion wear is a tricky beast to yield, one made all the more problematic by our refusal to pre-plan for plans not already made.

Far too often I have found myself struck by an item, one which ensnares my attention, one which sends my imagination rampant with excitement, one which with a wont so desperate I almost commit to a life together. That is until I regain my composure as a functioning adult and talk myself down: 'I don't need this, I don't need this...'

Yet there are also those times when an occasion arises that warrants  a dedicated outfit and it is this occasion specific wear that encourages much excitement, until said outfit alludes and then much panic ensues, culminating in foot stamping, resentment and a last minute borrowed dress that is fine but not quite right. 

The issue here being the specificity of these occasions and lack of 'what if' clothing that being an adult affords one. Unless you need it, one withstands the impulse to buy it. But what if at the time said item was first seen, it wasn't actually needed, and now an occasion has arisen that befits that very same item perfectly, but alas, it's no longer available? Welcome to my continued dilemma. 

There have been countless garments overlooked, my imagination being curbed by my affliction of sensible thinking. Ballgowns are left forlorn, perfectly good wetsuits remain unconsidered as I struggle to think responsibly, rationalising that I have yet to book said surf lesson or intend to do so in the near future... However, should the opportunity afford me, I would find myself utterly unprepared. And this got me to thinking, is staying on topic suffocating the possibility of potential? 

The pertinence of this question rang true when I was invited to my best friend's wedding. I had nothing to wear. And though countless dresses abounded and numerous articles littered the internet with 'How to's for wedding wear' and 'do's and don'ts' of wedding etiquette, nothing aided my quest nor inspired my imagination for a wedding guest outfit. To add further to my dilemma, I was invited to the ceremony during the day, meaning that I could not rely on the dimly lit ambience afforded the evening guests. Instead I would be photographed in the all too honest glare of daylight. This outfit would be seen; I needed something worth seeing. 

The dresses about the highstreet all geared toward desperate wedding goers were not typical of my aesthetic and the pastel suit I had envisaged was overlooked in the ignorance of 'having time' and not needing it 'right now'. But of course as time ran down, so did my options. An ASOS order in desperation was placed, and a mad dash to the Zara sale one lunchtime took place. There was much stress and now there is much for me to return.

In spite of this, I did in fact go fully clothed to the wedding. Although the thought still plagued me; is it better to buy based on like or on necessity? Perhaps an ounce of forward thinking need be employed here - what is the likelihood of being invited to a wedding, or the probability of a christening? Hazarding a guess, I'd say pretty likely. Yet, I'd also posit that few will already possess an item of clothing for 'just incase'. Rather we choose to be reactionary as opposed to buying what we like when we like it, which would result in a preparedness for those occasions not yet known of. 

Though forethought cannot combat every eventuality, buying items based on like regardless of precisely when they will be worn, drastically increases the chances that said item will get worn. A wispy, floral, 'Summer incarnate' concoction of a dress, bought at the height of December, may go unworn until the rain ceases around mid-Spring (or Summer if you're from the UK). However, once the clouds break, it'll be worn more times that Paris Hilton says "that's hot!"

The formula for succeeding at occasion specific wear and breaking down dress-codes is to buy what you like, when you like it, as that, versus buying on impulse under the pressure of a looming date, is always more authentically you and that is the only dress code one need worry about.  

(All images : via Vogue) 

POWER DRESSING : THE POINTED TOE SHOE

Are pointed flats the modern rendition of power dressing? 

During the 80s women adopted a decidedly more masculine silhouette. Reprising the suit from their male counterparts and moving away from the ethereal aesthetic of the 70s into sharp tailoring and oversized proportions accomplished largely through the 80's stalwart, the shoulder pads. This however, was not to be mistaken for women dressing as men, rather it was a visual signifier that women too are powerful (an attribute associated with the suit and more poignantly with men in suits). 

Whilst suiting, especially those that come in pastel varieties, are experiencing a revival this season and are now appropriated by men and women, this article isn't to posit the benefits of suits or shoulder pads (give them a try though). Rather it's about a pair of shoes that I feel captures that same essence of rebellious power dressing synonymous with the 80s; the pointed toe flat.

Similarly to the power suit, the pointed toe flat is a silhouette that breaks with the tradition that women should take up less room, both visually and verbally. Petite proportions and quiet clothing culminate in an image of visual docility that speaks of the historical role of agreeable women. However, like the razor edged shoulders of the 80's, the pointed toe flat seeks to challenge this stereotype. The pointed toe pump rages against restriction, elongating rather than shrinking and thus opposing the attractive image of the small, dainty female and the image of the foot that  follows this.

To reference the fairytale of Cinderella, the story focuses upon the elevation from hardship to high society of a mysterious young women, who after a night's rendezvous disappears back into the obscurity of her daily chores, only to be rescued purely upon the identification of her petite foot and the revelation that this dainty foot fits the magical glass slipper. The Ugly Stepsisters (being ugly inside and out) are symbolised by their big, unfeminine feet, the identification of which leads to the unravelling of their image as high society women.

Cinderella is identified as princess-worthy through the fetishisation of femininity and the idealisation of the female body (i.e small feet being conducive to female attractiveness). Concurrently the Ugly Stepsisters possess negative qualities that are visualised through physical attributes that are considered unfeminine and ergo unattractive (bad looks such as big feet, denote a sense of female fraudulence).

Though the ugliness of the stepsisters runs far deeper then just their large footwear, the presumption that a dainty foot amounts to beauty is historically rooted. The practise of foot binding as a means of physical perfection, social progression and marital desirability was practised for more than 1000 years. And a recent google search brings up articles such as 'women with size five feet are most attractive to men' (Telegraph) and 'man's perfect woman has this type of foot' (Footfiles). 

According to research documented in the Telegraph, the formula for the perfect foot is "a size five, wearing three inch heels and red toe nail varnish" with a third of men "making a character judgement based on the state of [... a women's feet]. The article focuses on self-care of female feet, mens' views on female feet and how "more than half of the UK's top earning women spend nothing on caring for their feet" - how truly shocking. 

And it would seem that a man's affinity for the petite foot may be inherent, as an experiment by Jeremy Atkinson, in which composites of small footed and large footed women were shown to men in a bid that they would choose who they found most attractive. The results concluded that men were three and a half times more likely to choose the images of the small footed women as those most attractive (Footfiles). 

With this in mind, it would seem that the pointed toe shoe is truly radical, elongating as opposed to encouraging a small refined, stereotypically 'attractive' image. The angular shape contradicts the typical softness and curves associated with femininity, the female form and prescribed female behaviours. The streamlined point of the shoes speaks of a tailored sophistication that is aesthetically chic in its simplicity , yet powerful in it's rebellious spike shape. Images of Rosa Klebb (the Bond villain) spring to mind and though minus the debilitating poison dipped tips, the rebellion feels palpable, metamorphosing from the material and informing my attitude.

It may be a small step of rebellion, but my pointed toe shoes encourage purposeful strides rather than reluctant shuffles. So walk tall, the world truly is at your feet. 

(Photos via : WhoWhatWear, elleuk.com, vogue.es, theyallhateus.com)

SHIRTING THE ISSUE

So this thing has happened and not to put it down to my age again or anything, but I think it's my age.

I like clothes a lot, I'd say more than the average person. I see that as a fact more than an admission of guilt. Whether rightly or wrongly so, my mood and self confidence are in direct proportion to how good my outfit is, or should I say, how good my outfit makes me feel. I see it as my worldly armour, my protection against everyday BS. I carry myself differently, the material about my body inweaving   confidence to my person as I am my best dressed self. Generally I  manage this with ease in everyday life (though we all have those 'I have nothing to wear days'), yet in regards to my work wear I sometimes struggle. During social aspects of life, dressing genuinely as myself is seamless, however for work, there is a pressure to portray a professional persona, that is sometimes at odds with my personal proclivity - namely that I don't like to wear pencil skirts and I love print.

I thought that a change of mindset should help ease this inner disconnect. Previously my fashion likes have been spontaneous, thoughtless and shortsighted. I have thus made a conscious effort to consider what my wardrobe is lacking, what I need out of necessity and what I will get a realistic amount of wear out of. Bearing all of this in mind, I have found that the most versatile piece is the blouse/shirt.  

It all started with a pop up reminder of & Other Stories' Sale. Out of curiosity, I had a browse and fell upon the above insanely chic and fun blouse. Leopard print and primary coloured polka dots - genius. Usually when I've found a desirable piece, I try to remain calm and reasonable and consider wearability, as in when will I wear this piece and with what will I wear it. Doing this makes me feel less impulsive and more adult. However, I do usually only conjure up one scenario of wear before punctually purchasing, i.e this t-shirt will be great with 'X' item and I can wear it to 'Y' place. 

Typically this one dimensional justification suffices. However, I find with a  blouse/shirt, that these pre-purchase renditions of my avatar wearing said item are limitless. Yes I can wear the blouse or shirt to work, neatly tucked into black trousers and a smart pump. Or I can wear it  nonchalantly half tucked into a pair of vintage Levis with a heel for French girl chic or Reeboks for a kooky London vibe. Alternatively, paired with a silk skirt and sandals - my envisaged holiday uniform. And lastly, I see it elevated with leather trousers and a vertiginous heel on a night out out. Inspiration truly abounds.

I have tried separating my social clothing and my work wear, but personally this fails me, the two being so closely reminiscent for me right now. But that's not to say that my creative flair is wavering. On the contrary, I see the typical work wear uniform (blouse and trousers) now as something to be worn in and outside of work and that was truly revelational, as I became freed from my denim confines and able to play with the constructs of what it means to dress up and to dress down. Aged converse paired with a crisp white shirt and cigarette pants, or a crew neck, ragged jeans and a heel. The contrast at play, making the act of getting dressed fun and boundless. 

And so my love of the blouse/shirt begins and continues. The exponential wearability fills me with excitement at the prospective pairings. So, you've had due warning, be prepared to see blouses and shirts all over my body and Instagram, as I ease into this really subtly... with leopard print and polka dots. I don't think my colleagues will be needing their morning caffeine when they get a look at this jazzy piece!

(Photos via : Pinterest)