Here's a fashion confession: I've never watched a runway show in action that wasn't IRL. I was kind of put off by the whole scenario when the fashion channel on pay-TV seemed so bizarre and abstract... drastically different from the cartoons I idolised at the age of six. But I reserve the right to interact with catwalk shows in my own peculiar way and instead choose to adore the stills taken from meticulous shows, avoiding the down right weird and strange music chosen to convey the mood and muse of the designer's inspiration.
In this case though I'm dying to figure
out what music was chosen to emphasise the backdrop setting of
secretarial offices- something from the 1960s I hope. But these dreams
slowly melt away; and instead in my sad, little misguided head in stead
of music of the period I hear the gentle tinkle of "Closing time, You
don't have to go home but you can't stay here"... and my mother insists
that she can't take me anywhere and my friend from uni called my a
cretin the other day. All this sums me up nicely in a neat little
package. Except for the fact I am sickeningly wrapped up in the fashion
word under the superficial onion layer of a nerdy science student
totally obsessed with their assignment marks.
Winter is the most dismal and dreary season, giving me excuses to consume copious amounts of hot chocolates, wear warm woolen tights and coats resembling dissected teddy bears. That last bit sounds scathing, but being a Biology student dissection is a pretty useful tool to learn anatomy and stuff plus who doesn't love a teddy bear? My boyfriend almost worked at the local Build-A-Bear workshop but decided he didn't look good in yellow. Well now he regrets it and I do too- although I know deep down that any fluffy scrap material wouldn't be kept on a shop premises but I can dream can't I? Oh right, that time spent dreaming would be better spent tirelessly scavenging all online outlets for cute and cheap vintage clothing and opportunity shops before my fingers freeze and drop off. I'm also not kidding about my poor digits- having bad blood circulation sucks! But having an excuse to wear spiffy draping coats with perfectly rounded collars and a hemline of perfectly manageable length? Well, I personally wouldn't be the one to turn down such a capacious and generous offer but then again I am a scavenger at heart, for now content with eyeballing the Internet enviously for the next muse.
The deeper I delve into the style scene and business of blogging the more I understand the conventions that reap the most success and buzz when names are concerned- and comparisons can go either way. Now to the best of my knowledge, they seem to detract the success of one brand by 'unfairly' elevating one brand to the status of another but in this case I'd like to state something as benign as possible. Cute little textural daisies melting from one fabric to another capitalise on the Prada Summer/ Spring 2013 campaign but moving away from the monochrome combination of black, white (and the occasional red) is a simpler outfit more suitable for well... the office. That felt pretty obvious but I think the smaller details such as the pleated, pendant-like collar and matching grey cuffs add touches of luxury to the smart jacket; something cute I wish my mother could wear with other sparkly and grey silky formal wear.
Whenever mincing together bold rectangular panels divided by a distinct black band there will be faint echoes of modernist art and in particular Composition A which I found a bit strange amongst a sea of 1960s inspired shift dresses and pretty little beehives. It's a bit strange that with no real knowledge of the art scene I could still identify this but I have the Internet at my fingertips! That's the 21st century for you though; the interest of trivia knowledge and intrigue of reinvention that encompasses the fast rate of information exchange and new bold ideas juxtaposed with sweet reminders of the old. I'm a little impartial to such a basic design that needs some customisation from geeky pins in my eyes, but I'm looking forward to the challenge of styling pieces I normally wouldn't go for and finding the balance between using enough frenzy and pomp in my styled outfits and basics- of which my wardrobe actually encompasses large amounts. You can thank my mother- she bought me far too many things when I was fifteen and only now has stopped tediously spoon feeding me pieces of her own taste...
enough about me, let's discuss like mature adults the clothing in all
its glorious and feminine details. Texture met pastel- BEEHIVES met
suave side-sweeping fringes that made my heart leap and penciled
eyebrows felt me aching for a femme fatale. Sharp and snappy collars
from bygone era again grace the catwalk against plaintive beige and rose
tones, without the quirky hand drown symbols and silk of Miu Miu Spring
2010 and instead with the reserved eyebrow wavering of a ticked off
librarian. I don't know guys, I'm feeling the bookish vibes from the
slick floors and clunky filling cabinets which have really just enhanced
the whole aura of the scene. Since Autumn has well and truly descended
upon us and I am in the mood to wear pastel colored tights and stockings
to combat all the sad grey colours of the sky and suburban streets. Or I
would be if I had any time- or sense in ordering pretty tights, hmm... 3
weeks ago!? I'm so nasty at planning sometimes. Sadly flimsy Mary Jane
t-strap shoes have no place in the hallowed halls of a science
laboratory, but I can dream can't I?
*sigh* I've been contemplating short-sleeved fluffy mohair sweaters since scrolling over old Style Rookie outfits a fortnight ago and passed up a piece from Opening Ceremony countless times. Needless to say, the apple of my eye was sold and has gone to a good home but now there's just a nasty and superficial aching in my heart where the minimalist approach, pastel tones and fluffy textures all come together in the style of the adorable and eccentric 1950s. You might think it's a stretch to call this ensemble look of cheery blossom pink and tan handbag eccentric, but paired with a cheesy Hawaiian/ Pineapple printed something-or-rather or some huge cat eye sunglasses (or both!!) you could easily reach levels of cheesy vintage. Or replace the sensible office handbag with a unicorn outline clutch. Your pick. Look, my whole rather messy argument is that there's beauty and versatility in this outfits that lies outside the universe of secretary outfits and they lend themselves well to other styles, saving time of busy gals like me a little too busy to hunt through racks of thrift stores. It's not that I believe inflating prices is necessarily a good idea, but when quality are assured as opposed to eau de mothball I often drift to loftier price tags. However, being a poor uni student with little time to make a living, the cheaper, thriftier alternative will stay in my realms for quite some time.