This is my other half’s standard reaction when I bring anything home from a shopping trip that isn’t a black dress, T-shirt or pair of jeans. Fashion isn’t really his thing. In fact I don’t think there are many subjects that he could be less interested in. And even though I did buy that pair of “ridiculous” high-waisted seventies trousers (and wore them the next day, to answer the initial question) I realised it isn’t really my thing anymore either.
The fact that I wanted to become a fashion designer when I was 18, even going in for the entrance exam, I find quite hilarious now (honestly, what was I thinking?). I haven’t opened a fashion magazine in a long, long time where a few years ago I used to buy about three a month. This is probably a healthy evolution since I have to spend about a million pounds a month on London rent and so can’t often justify a splurge on clothes I don’t strictly need anyway.
I came to this realisation last week when I went to the shops with a friend for a treat-yo-self excursion (birthday money, hurray!) and she pointed out an item that was apparently a great copy of such-and-such designer (see: I can’t even remember the name) and I had no idea what she was on about.
Living out of a backpack and wearing 6 T-shirts on rotation for about 5 months definitely made me care less, but in general the whole fashion circus just doesn’t hold the appeal for me that it used to.
Even though my passion for fashion isn’t quite as intense as it used to be I do feel like I love the things in my wardrobe much, much more than the stuff I was buying when I read all the catwalk reports. Maybe it’s part of growing up or maybe it’s because I spend my left-over-after-rent-and-bills-money (in other words: not a lot of it) more carefully.
Clothes often sit on my mental shopping list for a good few weeks now before I actually make a purchase (sometimes as a result they are sold out by that time…). I also think London makes dressing up much more fun. Because there are no limits, people wear weird shit all the time and no one will raise their eyebrows if you do it makes wearing things that aren’t necessarily in your comfort zone a lot less daunting.
In fact, if you live in the east wearing odd clothing combinations is the national sport (how exhausting the hipster quest for individuality must be!).
In other words I can’t wait to wear my flares all. the. time.
(much to the BF’s dismay)
(But don’t ask me about the trends for A/W 2015)