YOU'VE HEARD OF MILLENNIAL PINK, BUT WHAT ABOUT PURPLE?

You'd be forgiven for thinking that everyone is walking around in rose tinted glasses recently. Everything features a rosy hue, pink becoming a relative neutral for today's millennial set. Pink is as prolific as fake tan is on TOWIE. But please don't mistake this as a roast. It's not. It's an exploration of colours new, a horizon that goes beyond the flush of pink and ventures into a haze of purple.

I'm thinking, lets give pink the boot

Maybe it's the weather - the UK was lucky enough to see the sun for three whole consecutive days last week and we moaned for exactly that same amount of time. Yet that flirtation with Summer was enough to get me hooked on all things purple. 

Much like my dalliance with yellow, I wasn't immediately taken with purple. I couldn't think of three ways to style it - which is my rule to live by. I moved on and went about my life. Although I didn't really. Before I knew it, every rail of clothes I stood before, I found myself drawn to any and everything purple. I'd walk away knowing that it was wrong, a partnership that would never work in the long haul. However, I started thinking. Maybe we could work together. 

I sat, deep in thought and had a long chat with myself, 'could I make purple work for me?' The answer after much soul searching was 'Yes!' 

I started small with a basic crew neck lilac t-shirt. I then thought hard for the second time that day... How exactly would I style this proclamation of rebellion? I was standing alone amongst a sea of blush coloured millennials. My deliberate detachment had to make an impression, or I'd risk looking like I didn't get the memo of the 2017 dress code of life, or that my colours had run in the wash.

I turned to the internet and got lost in the black hole of possibility. Here's what I found:

Yes, it is technically Summer, but UK weather. Tiffany Hsu makes a good case for wearing a blanket as an overcoat and an efficient street sweep. Side note: purple & orange = thumbs up.

What better way to be inducted into purple than in a comfy, oversized jumper? I wouldn't quite recommend this exact one - it's Vetements, synonymous with unnecessarily exorbitantly priced goods  *see the DHL t-shirts*. But the mix of high/low is truly inspired. I need a purple jumper like, yesterday & a beaded shrug the day before. 

Take a low maintenance basic, e.g the tracksuit pant. Add in a vibrant hue to prevent boredom from setting in. Pair with one minimalistic pair'a pointed toe boots, an unassuming hoodie that may or may not have originated in the mens department, et voila!

I feel like this outfit exemplifies the sporadicity of life/the weather right now. There's something refreshing in bearing your navel, yet hiding your arms/hands in what appears to be a disfiguring purple marshmallow. I laaaav eeet. The florals, the blue pop, the texture. Yes.

Do you feel inspired yet?? 

'Why can't you wear pink and purple' I hear you ask. Well, if you're a fence-sitter then I guess you can. But lets be dramatic and pick a side. It's the biggest thing since Team Edward vs Team Jacob; since smooth peanut butter vs crunchy peanut butter; since The World vs Liv (Love Island)! It's your right to have an opinion, so use it - as long as it's in line with mine. JK :D 

(Photos via: lewismirrett.com, styledumonde.com, harpersbazaar.com, smilingischic.com & shotbygio.com) 

HOW TO: THE NEW 'NOT SO BASIC' BASIC

Of late the fashion forecast wavers between reviving the fashion void that was the Noughties - sported by any and all famous off-spring - and a more-is-more librarian Kooky-chic (see Gucci, Mui Mui & Prada). It's intimidating. How does one get dressed with such a miscellaneous assortment of inspiration on offer. 

(Hoodie & blazer - who'd have thunk it?!)

We had Normcore a while back, championed by the likes of Phoebe Philo and thus every other fashion-y person the world over. It endorsed a streamlined aesthetic, completely nondescript outfits punctuated only by the vibrant green of the Stan Smiths that acted as your 'in' to the upper echelons of fashion-dom.  

(Tip: Elevate your basics with luxe fabrics in rich shades like the above velvet bomber)

However, in quite a reactionary move, personality and panache were served in spades by the likes of Gucci and Dolce & Gabanna. A more is more aesthetic riled against the bland practicality of Normcore. And that's where we find Athleisure, a midway point that sees the elevation of basics in an unexpected and often unconventional way. 

It is a trend of rarefied tastes. Mixing basics with an element of trash; a Juicy Couture tracksuit with a vertiginous stiletto, a sports bra with a blazer, gym leggings with fishnet tights. It shouldn't work but it strangely does - sort of.

(Kendall again, elevating your usual comfy clothes with pointed-toe booties and a chic carry-on, not to mention the risqué transparency making her lounge-wear decidedly luxe)

   

However, proceed with trepidation, styling classic pieces with a touch of bad taste is a tricky line to walk. Also it is essential to remember that models are afforded much more leeway than the average person. Take for example Kendall Jenner's recent transparent airport outfit. The mere mortal will not look chic and daring, they will look like they don't own a mirror, or have friends to warn them that they have an extreme case of VPL. Also leggings should have ALOT of spandex in them to create a sleek, tight silhouette - nothing needs to be flapping around in the wind, that is not the kind of bad taste I'm proposing adopting here! 

With that being said, injecting personality into your basics is easier than you might think if you follow the formula: basic outfit + elevated accessories, or vice versa: elevated outfit + basic accessories. For example, a basic tee, lounge trousers paired with a fantastic heel, red lip and gold hoops. Or, a slinky slip dress with a basic pair of trainers.

(See above: slinky leggings & cargo trousers are zhuzhed up with patent accessories & the strappiest of heels)

Once you've mastered the high/low balance your wardrobe is your oyster. Endless possibilities await: A crew neck tee under a slip dress with a bomber jacket slung nonchalantly over the shoulders, the highest of heels and a messy top knot. A crisp white shirt with boyfriend style denim shorts, a neckerchief and a scrappy sandal. Sports leggings, a bralet and whatever your shoe of choice... 

 (KKW showcasing how to go straight from P.E class to the school disco & Kendall, setting a fine example in elevating a basic white t-shirt & jeans combo)

Though as stated above, the possibilities may be endless, I will stop listing, or this could get awkwardly long. The key is to experiment and now that you're clued in on how to amp a look up or casj a look down, just run with it. And who knows, maybe you'll master the transparent tracksuit - make sure to let me know if you do!

(Photos: pinterest, InStyle, Harpers Bazaar, justjared.com Vogue & WhoWhatWear.co.uk)

THAT IS SO YOU

Some sentiments are to be appreciated, welcomed even. Others not so much. They come with a sense of expectation that sometimes just cannot be fulfilled. Case in point, when someone proudly proclaims: "that is so you!" 

(SATC: Four ladies all with distinguishable fashion troupes that represent not only their personal style, but their individual personalities)

The weight of this statement often results in a long pause, followed by an awkward silence of sorts as the mind races to assess the situation and fathom whether or not this is a joke.

It's difficult when someone, a person who you think knows you, can get you so wrong. You're in shock, your feelings may be hurt. How could they believe this to be a reflection of your style, an extension of you? But amidst all the confusion, you are very aware of their feelings - they may have chosen something for you based on their own fashion predilections. How to sidestep this, think, think...

Life in general is all about labels; good, bad, right, wrong. Fashion is no different; bohemian, minimalistic, alternative... It keeps everything neat and tidy. Categorisation is a means of managing the chaos that is life, but it's all too easy to confuse what is merely a surface perspective as a reflection of the person as a whole. It makes you feel in control, like you've got things/people/life sussed out. Until those fateful words are uttered - 'that is so you' - and it comes to light that your manicured arrangement of a certain person's style and thus them is completely and utterly wrong. 

(Green faux fur makes being memorable a certainty) 

Everyone wants to be memorable and it's often people's quirks that help to define them into these sub-categories. It definitely adds a weight of conviction when present buying. For example, I will forever be grateful of a slogan tee, bonus points if it's witty, or a statement jacket - an outfit maker in itself. For my sister, anything with an element of luxe is a sure winner, whereas the boyfriend finds anything khaki or burgundy particularly appealing. 

When you get it right, it feels so good. Like 'hey you're my friend, I know you so well and to prove this look at this awesome gift I've bought/made/cooked for you'. Everyone's happy and you're a great person/friend. However, when you get it wrong, it sucks. 

It's not about being grateful or ungrateful. The sentiment is always something to be greatly appreciated, but that doesn't stop the tangible awkwardness that comes when you are told that something is 'you to a T' - only that it isn't. It might only be a suggestion, but it does give you an inkling into their thoughts on your personal style. You might see this as a misinterpretation of your style, other times, however, if you're open to it, it might come as a welcome respite from your usual.

(Susie Lau of Susie Bubble's inimitable style)

Having a specific 'look' isn't a bad thing, it's particularly handy first thing on a Monday morning, but it can mean that oftentimes we are blinkered, overlooking green paper bag waist trousers because we typically favour black skinny jeans. When I'm out shopping with my boyfriend he'll point clothes out for me, mostly because they're pre-existent in my closet already - e.g stripes, a constant forever - but I appreciate his attempt at involvement in something that he frankly has no cares about.

Granted, this still doesn't help when one is in the awkward abyss of the 'that is so you' predicament. However, the situation is much like when you ask someone for their opinion on something that you love and just have to have. This happens to me very often. I'll turn to a friend, beaming at the Barbie pink, ruffle necked T-shirt that I can visualise going with everything in my whole wardrobe/the entire world, only to be met with much shuffling of feet and averted eyes. They feel awkward, I feel confused.

And I guess that is personal style being enacted in real life. It is personal. Can I imagine my friends wearing half of the stuff that make up my daily wears?  Absolutely not. Most of my outfits are met with, "only you could wear that" remarks and it's true, only I could wear the things that I wear because it's my personal style. And an outside person no matter how close to you they may be (except my mum, she just gets me) cannot be blamed for sometimes being a bit off with their recommendations, because they are in fact not you. 

Next time your fashion fate is dictated to you, take the time to assess the situation, mull it over, then if need be, use the distraction technique and point to something shiny. Alternatively, if the item sparks intrigue then capitalise on your compadre's style advice. This could be lucrative to the development of your own personal style. After all, this person sees your outfits from all angles, something that unless you're boneless, you cannot. So save your dread over those four little words - 'that is so you' - because who knows, it could be a you that you haven't yet discovered...  

(Photo credits: Pinterest, huffingtonpost, elleuk.co.uk & whowhatwear)

THE REDUX, AGAIN

Fashion is truly confounding.

(Bella or Xtina?)

The zeitgeist is all things 90s and early noughts and seemingly non-fashion. I'll explain. See all of Bella Hadid's recent outfits. The high waist, bootleg jeans; lace-up crotch; dark wash denim; stirrup leggings; cargo pants; wallet chains; fishnet tights; bucket hats; backwards worn flat caps... and this is all in one outfit.

(Yes, you are seeing Crocs on the catwalk)

See also jorts, practical trainers, tracksuits, kitten heels. It's a  rarefied hullabaloo of basically all things the antithesis of good taste. I feel now is a good time to mention Christopher Kane's collab with Crocs. *Pause to let that sink in*.

And herein lies the redux, again. Welcome to the rotational pull of fashion everyone.

It's not that I have a problem per se with any of the above, heck some I've even embraced myself - who knew that fishnet tights looked so good with every shoe made, like ever? However, some things I'm happy to leave in fashion's murky past, like bucket hats maybe, and wallet chains. I figured them a logistical nightmare the first time around, but check in with me in a couple of weeks and I may have done a 180. I guess I'm as fickle as fashion :)

(Plaid, Mom jeans & slip dresses - a veritable 90s cocktail if I've ever seen one)

It's difficult to determine bad taste or good taste, the one only existing in relation and opposition to the other. And of course everything is subject to one's own personal opinion. Yet, there did seem to be an unwritten consensus of those 'trends' that were considered universally undesirable (again, see aforementioned Crocs). It begs the question, what makes something fashion? Or maybe the question is, who? 

Quick quiz: A person is wearing cargo shorts, practical trainers, a white shirt and a bumbag. Is this high fashion, or a middle aged tourist's get-up? Tricky, right? Your guess is truly as good as mine.  

(Bella or Clueless extra?)

The summation of all this has to be 'wear what you like', but I do find myself somewhat surprised by what is mass desired nowadays. Challenging preconceptions and broadening inclinations from your preferred norm is healthy and certainly profitable for personal expression. But how much of any trend is bought into for love of the item and not just as a consequence of the current fashion climate?

Tastes do evolve and as one comes to develop and depend on personalised staples, the unusual can be overlooked. This can sometimes help to vet out fast fashions, but also imposes limitations that hinder the unpredictability of personal style. How many white t-shirts does it take to make a rut? And how many unconventional trends does it take to dig you out of one? 

(It's baaaaack - Much to he delight of Paris Hilton I'm sure)

The flightiness of fashion makes it difficult to decide what is worth trying out and what is worth missing out. As with most trends, you never realise their inherent trendiness until the hype is over and the sale rail becomes a veritable who's who of trends past. I'm not sure I'm about to embrace the 90's redux of Bella Hadid proportions; BUT, revisiting logo-mania or dabbling with a velour tracksuits circa the noughties may be quite fun - or tragic, but I guess I won't know until I try...

(Images via: vogue.com, stylecaster.com & glamour.com)

COULD THESE BE THE MOST HATED TROUSERS EVER?!

Hate is a strong word, reserved more recently for Trump and, for me personally, cheese.

Perhaps misunderstood would be more apt. Though it is true that the trousers in question do stir up violent reactions of utter confusion and complete bewilderment.

It all started in Zara, as so many things do.

Those big glass windows will be my damnation, luring me in with their promise of a post-Christmas sale bargain. I was tantalised with expectation, excited beyond reason of what wonders could possibly await me. I walked my usual route around the store (anti-clockwise FYI) and found myself at a table not unlike those found at Primark- a tanglement of clothes, sprawled haphazardly around the place as to make a former shop girl like me, twitch at the recollection of folding and refolding clothes as quickly as arsehole inconsiderate customers flung them around the place. The mess was such as to make me question my commitment to the shopping cause / life. 

To keep the boyfriend, who was *patiently* trawling behind me, from offing himself with a coat hanger, I reassured him that I was 'only' looking *insert smug smile here*. As all us girls know, there is no such thing as 'just looking' and it wasn't long before I spied a frayed edge so destroyed as to make me wonder whether my little dog had got here first. I fought with the tangled legs of jeans in search of the size tag, and would you believe the number was my own and the price was that of a Starbucks medium vanilla latte and blueberry muffin. For me it was a no brainer. 

However, not so much for the boyfriend. 

The reaction was not dissimilar to that of James Bond grappling with a baddie to get the gun and save the girl. In this situation, the frayed jeans were the gun, I was the girl that needed rescuing and the boyfriend was the hero. The determination in his face, the protective arm flung with such force as to almost knock me off my feet, the adrenaline was palpable.

I was confused. 

In a rather meta moment, I felt like I was looking down on my life, witnessing his one-man action 'saving the world' moment. As far as I could tell we were looking at the same jeans, though one can never be sure what actually goes on in the male brain... Maybe he had been sucked into some time/space continuum thingy? Was he hallucinating? Or a mental breakdown? I stood hypothesising over which of the various maladies he most definitely was suffering with. He ended his saviour moment with a hero speech, something about 'not needing another pair of black jeans' and that I 'wouldn't wear them' and ended with a muffled snigger. I responded to his obvious aversion by immediately buying the jeans. I considered it a sartorial two fingers to the narrow minded, fashionably unimaginative boyfriend.

What I didn't realise at the time, was that this would mark the first of many, less than positive reviews of my jeans. Every outting has thus far been met with witty remarks of faux concern for my safety (did I get stuck in a shredder?) my financial well being (do I need to borrow money to buy a 'full' pair of jeans) or my future endeavours (am I auditioning for Robinson Crusoe? This one did make me LOL).

In spite of their polarising effect on the world, I remain defiant in wearing my jeans. Black needn't be boring and these jeans embody that sentiment, even if they do inspire an ongoing commentary at every wear. I'm encouraged to explore the manifest ways of updating my basic denim. I'm thinking fringing, beading, tassels... I'm not sure what excites me more, the denim diversity that awaits or the inventive ways I'm sure my family, friends and colleagues will find to describe my valiant denim efforts. 

(Images via: The Fashion Spot)

WHAT TO WEAR WHEN ANYTHING GOES

It's taken me a long time to figure out what is work wear appropriate in an 'anything goes' office.

I've seen shirt and ties, saggy arse joggers, Uggs, there's even an office tale of a mankini... The entire concept of office apropos has been exploited and then some. 

I myself have made some questionable decisions when fumbling around in an attempt to look like a fully functioning - or at least fully dressed - adult, before most (including the sun) have awoken. 

One such time involved the discovery of a strange lump in my skinny jeans. After much cajoling (I was still new at this time so surmise that this is the only reason that no one asked what the bloody hell I was doing making such shapes under my desk...), eventually I was able to extract the mysterious mound, only to discover that it was in fact a pair of knickers. 

I can now attest that they were my own but in the panic of the situation I really couldn't be sure. And yes I did have to check that I hadn't done a Zoolander and unknowingly wriggled out of my underwear in between reading emails and walking to the printer. 

Rest assured this is not what happened, I can only think that this is what my mother meant when she said it was imperative to fold clean laundry. Another win for Team Parents is beautifully exemplified through the retelling of the dire ramifications which no one on earth could have foreseen yet somehow makes its way into the memories of my life. Please learn from my mistakes. Also I'd like to reiterate that my secondary pair of underwear was clean. Damn you tumble dryer, with all your clothes tangling, though conveniently timely, drying ways.

Other incidents have included, well nothing that could top the above story, just the regular bra strap mishaps, the occasional unknowingly see-through top and once, a see-through skirt. At other times my outfits speak of a lack of co-ordination so inexcusable as to make me question my own taste. The only thing that could talk me down from this was taking solace in the fact that I had gotten dressed in a pre-coffee daze, and thus my judgement was irreconcilably hindered. 

(I guess remembering a bra is the first thing...)

Getting dressed is tough. Having sartorial guidelines is helpful, like a dress code at a party. How thoughtful of Diddy to clarify that one is encouraged to wear white to a 'white party'. Whether you abide by them or not is your prerogative, but at least the expectation is outlined. As far as I'm aware there is no dress code for life. Factor in the lightless mornings, the sometimes cold, sometimes not cold mood swings of the British climate and that this is all before breakfast TV even airs, one surely can't be blamed for a few errant bra flashes. Right?   

Modesty is definitely to be aimed for, but mostly it's just wear whatever you want/ is clean. And you think that would be fine, but despite the office consensus being that one need must get dressed out of social expectation, if not common courtesy, it doesn't stop everyone thinking themselves the third, lesser known member of Trinny & Suzannah. 

For example, I have taken to wearing neckerchiefs with pretty much everything. They are the stylistic impulse that I just cannot shirk rn. Yet twice my commitment to the silk scarf has been questioned, nay, mocked. The first time I was mistaken for an air hostess, and yes all exits in the building were motioned to me numerous times. The second time I was asked if I was hiding love bites under there. And though Kenickie eloquently likened a hickie to a hallmark card, I was in fact hiding a dodgy fake tan, not sucker marks.

(When in doubt, wear all black - though perhaps not that much cleavage - & my air hostess get-up)

I am still no closer to devising a steadfast uniform of my own - though jeans and a shirt are fast becoming my go to - however, I remain defiant in attempting to retain an element of fashion even when my meticulous accessorising goes unnoticed, or my print clashing gets a confused double take instead of a round of a applause. I doubt an education in fashion is likely to happen as a team bonding activity, but I could probably do with putting their wear whatever philosophy into practise. I should also try to remember that it's one pair of knickers per outfit. Pass me a sticky note, I think that should go on the office bulletin board...

(None of the above pictures are my own unless stated: harpersbazaar.com, news.com, man repeller.com, angelicablick.se & w_sophia)

UNLIKELY ICONS: ERIN BROCKOVICH

There is nothing that induces self-congratulation quite like having an idea reaffirmed by Vogue. 

Whilst perusing my emails I happened upon an article by Kristen Anderson expounding upon unlikely style icons. At the forefront of their alternative list was Erin Brockovich. The article eschewed the Bardot/Hepburn archetype of that which is classically thought of as style, praising the off-kilter looks championed by the likes of TLC,  Burmese punks and Brockovich as played by Julia Roberts. 

As I wrote in my previous post, I enjoy Bardot's namesake blouse and my trousers are rarely without a crop, however, there is something endearing about the aesthetic overkill of Roberts' Brockovich. She's at once intimidatingly cool yet devastatingly insecure, a dichotomy of character that is manifested in the play with fashion evident throughout the film. It is blatant yet fragile - brash prints on delicate camisoles, arse-grazing leather mini skirts paired with a cardigan set. The jarring contradiction of her look is enticing. 

What opens with an unassuming floral slip dress, denim jacket and mules, segues into a melange of leather (pleather?), structured corsetry (as daywear) and teetering sling-backs. All ensembles are of the carbohydrate repellent, bodycon variety and are accessorised with a baby perched nonchalantly atop hip. Outfits are unashamedly brash in their blatant disregard for co-ordination as Brockovich's style is all inclusive, showing no prejudice towards any colour, fabric or pattern. More is definitely more.

At her most 'corporate', Roberts' Brockovich dons a Barbie pink skirt suit, replete with side splits for full leg exposure for her already exposed legs. On the topic of which, how short is too short? Is there such a thing? Her look has single handedly dismantled my pretty solid belief in legs or chest being an either/ or thing. Heck, channelling the Erin Brockovich style of life, I might even throw in a slash of midriff while I'm at it. 

The dichotomy of exposure and concealment is constantly at play and becomes a powerful motif for owning ones' body and unique sartorial perspective. The clothes might be miniature in length and fit but they are impactful in their 'I-dont-give-an-eff' insouciance. Her hair is almost as big as her attitude and her one-liners are the sassy accoutrement that ground her eclectic style in the true grit of real life (or movie real life at least).

The chaos of Brockovich's style is visually provocative, the panache of her look is disarming, a visual overload that is almost too much to process. Perhaps that's what is enticing, you never quite figure her out. Her style is not a movie gimmick, it's a material display of a complicated character. Her IDGAF attitude is clearly manifested in her stylistic proclivities and is just as much a tribute to the IRL Erin Brockovich as it is a display of creative stylings. 

Whilst I'm not sure leather vests and 24/7 corsetry will feature in my workwear rotation, my homage will be far less literal, more a harnessing of the Brockovich spirit. "I think that I look nice and as long as I have one ass instead of two, I'll wear what I like" (Julia Roberts as Erin Brockovich). Now you can't argue with that.

(None of the images are my own: rogerebert.com, bustle.com, nydailynews.com, telegraph.co.uk)