A friend of mine from college – lets call him Captain Burns - supplemented the minimum wage he earn as a burger-flipper at Maccas by pirating. DVD’s, CD’s, anything you wanted burnt, slashed, or ripped in breach of copyright, could be supplied by Captain Burns with a couple of day’s notice and an extra large parcel of hot chips with chicken salt – the standard fare of modern day Pirates, I was lead to believe. Confronting the captain one day with my ethical reservations about the stack of pirated CD’s he’s burnt for me, Captain Burns turned my newly minted lefie politics against me:
Captain Burns (munching on soggy chicken salt chip): ‘Peg-Leg you’re a socialist, aren’t you? And you think that capitalism is wrong, morally, socially, and spiritually?’
Peggy (accepting offered chip from packet): ‘Of course’
Captain Burns (washing chip down with bourbon and cola, sneakily hidden in regular cola bottle so as to escape detection): ‘Well, it’s simple really. The capitalist social structure commercialises resources – ie music – when music should be free - for and of the people. All I’m doing is giving these resources back to the people who rightly own them. Redistributing the wealth of the state, if you will. And I will. Now, how about some Smashing Pumpkins to go with your Cranberries?’
Peggy (worries about morality of cd’s negated): ‘Yes please!’
Clearly, I was into 90s revival before it was cool.
Years after the fact though, my friend’s rather cynical interpretation of adolescent socialism sticks in my mind, as an example of how we should always look for ways of making our everyday lives less indebted to the capitalist system. In light of the fact that capitalism as we know it is crumbling, or at least flaking at the corners, perhaps it’s time to revolutionise and adopt a utopian position of a new sartorially socialist state…
What’s Mine Is Yours, What’s Yours Is Mine: Here’s a simple five stage plan for implementing your very own Utopian Sartorial Socialist Revolution.
Stage One of Implementation: Buy clothes. See prior posts for handy hints on this, but I think that if you like clothes enough to bother with this blog, you’ve probably fairly well along with stage one. Moving right along to…
Stage Two of Implementation: Wear clothes. Again, see prior posts, but I think you’ve got that bit worked out too…
Stage Three of Implementation: Decide you don’t like clothes on you. Whether it’s because you put on/loose weight, or change your hair colour, or decide that it’s time to grow up and get an office job and abandon your cowboy boots and floral dresses look (it’s never time for that in my book but if you’re comfortable with that then go right ahead). It’s a fact that for many reasons, happy and sad, we sometimes have to get rid of clothes. Putting aside the emotionality of the decision, you are now faced with the dilemma of what to do with them: rubbish bin, Vinnies bin, or…
Stage Four of Implementation: Share your clothes with various friends and admirers. Seems like a simple enough idea, right? You bought the dress, you wore the dress, you’re over the dress and it’s time to move on, you give the dress to your friend.
Surprisingly enough, it took me a good several years to cotton onto this. Whilst I could never bring myself to throw perfectly wearable clothes in the bin, I still didn’t think there were many other options than Vinnies for my cast-offs. Until my dear friends MiMi Goss and Rosie Bon Jovi gave me bundles of their respective hand-me-downs. Being of a larger size, I’d never really received hand me downs from fabulously stylish friends before – but having done so, I found that my wardrobe was reaping the benefits. MiMi Goss had undergone a change in aesthetic, moving from boho to refined chick one summer, and generously put her florals and paisleys out to pasture in my welcoming closet. Rosie Bon Jovi, being of a similar size but different colouring to me, found that some of her most flattering dresses didn’t do her beautiful hazel eyes justice – but they would work a treat with my brown ones. Thus, the path to the glorious revolution was lit for me by these venerated prophets of style. I consequentially did my half yearly wardrobe cull with a new ‘friends’ pile along with my standard ‘bin’, ‘vinnies’, and ‘mending’.
Like all socialist projects, though, there is potential for calamity in undertaking a Utopian Sartorial Socialist Revolution. As you’re swapping and casting off clothes amongst your friends, there’s a lot at stake. Here are a few guidelines to give you an idea of what can go wrong, and ways around these problems to ensure that your revolution is most glorious. Not that I’ve ever encountered any problems, but, being the responsible revolutionary I am, I can’t help but feel compelled to warn my comrades of potential threats.
• Always, always, always have an open door policy when receiving shared clothes. And, always always always don’t expect to be able to ask for clothes that you’ve given away to come back. Paradoxical though this may seem, if both parties have these expectations at the beginning of the arrangement, things will go smoothly. If you are the recipient of a bundle, you should make sure that the original owner of the clothes knows that they are welcome to ask for the clothes back if they change their mind. See, that’s the beauty of sharing. If you give something which you later realise is fabulous to vinnies, you can’t exactly ask for it back…so there goes that fabulous denim jacket and French navy wrap dress I threw out in a fit of pique two years ago. Whereas if I’d given them to a friend, there may be a slim possibility of getting them back. Although, I would caution against giving clothes away with the idea that you may be able to recall them in any situation other than a dire one. When you give clothes that you’re out of love with away, you need to fully expect that the recipient will fall IN love with them, and may not want to relinquish. Or she may have modified it, or damaged it, or passed it on to another friend. It may be a little bit tricky negotiating at first, but it’s well worth establishing this understanding before you share clothes.
• Be open to the idea that people will not like what you want to give them – and let them know that it’s okay if they don’t want to use a particular garment, and that you won’t be offended. Likewise, if you are a recipient, be honest about what you would and would not like to take – tactfully, of course, but honestly. After all, if you don’t want to use it, maybe another friend of the giver’s might like it.
• Tell the recipient of your clothes about any ‘issues’ the particular garment has. For instance, if you are giving your friend a skirt that rides up, tell her about it. Forewarned is forearmed, and she will thank you for it when she realises you’ve saved her from the dreaded crotch creep – you know, that thing that happens when you get dressed, run for the bus, then realise as you’re walking through the interchange that there’s a strange creeping going on about your nether regions – that’s the crotch creep. The recipient may happily take the garment with ‘issues’ – perhaps she may know a trick to fix gaping buttons, or sticky zips – or she may gracefully decline. Either way, full disclosure is necessary.
• Lastly, and most importantly, never swap anything that comes with an ‘eeewww’. By this I mean any garment that is just a bit gross. Imagine you were a friend of Ms Lweinski’s in the mid 90s. She gave you this neat little navy shift dress that she’d got too porky for. You wear the navy dress about town, and grow to love it. And then you realise that the very dress you’ve now taken under your wing as your own has a history that is rather infamous, icky, and just a wee bit sticky…I don’t think you’d feel too good, to put it mildly. That’s why it’s a bad idea to swap or share any item of clothing that has come into contact with nefarious bodily fluids. Even if it has been thoroughly cleaned, you don’t want your friend to show up at a party wearing your old Vomity Veronika Maine.
Comrades, there you have it. Most great revolutions are born out of the suffering of the people, and the Utopian Sartorial Socialist Revolution is no different. In times of financial difficulty, the solidarity of Recessionistas is our style’s greatest strength. Swap with your sisters in style and viva la revolution!
Showing posts with label Recessionista. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Recessionista. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
A Manifesto for Recessionistas: Trannies in the Closet
One of the great tragedies of my life is that I can’t buy as many clothes as I would like. In financial, ethical and spatial terms – my closet is groaning - I have to think very hard before I’m willing to make a purchase.
As the mornings in out delightful nation’s capital crisp up, and the leaves start turning, chain stores and boutiques begin rolling out the new season’s stock. I’m sure that every fashionista looks forward to seasonal change over as much as I do – it’s like the beginning of the fashion footy season, working out which styles have been pensioned off to the backbench and assessing the merits of the upcoming stars. Financially, though, all these new goodies artfully displayed in shop windows can be rather a hazard to those of us on a budgetary shoestring.
Enter the Trannie. Now, I’m not referring to a transvestite or a transsexual – although I feel that both of these social groups have significant aesthetic contributions to fashion and our understandings of gender. But that’s a homily for another time.
What I mean by Trannie is a Trans-Seasonal-Wonder. It’s a little trick I discovered a few years ago and it’s made my life so much more fabulous. Some pieces of clothing, with careful styling, can cross seasonal boundaries with the right accessorisation, effectively doubling the amount of times you will wear them with a little bit of careful planning. When you start to think in Trannie terms, it makes sense to purchase that lovely summery frock – because you know that you’ll be wearing it right into May and starting again in August. Likewise, you’ll be able to assess what you need to buy this season in a more rational light – being aware, for instance, that that woolly long sleeved dress at three hundred dollars isn’t going to give you much of a return on the purchase price unless you are planning to wear it every other day from May-August. But that short sleeved Galaxy dress on the hander next to it will certainly earn its keep in your closet.
To illustrate this point, I’m offering some seasonal descriptions of Trannie dressing, to show how the same dress can be worn throughout the better part of the year. For arguments’ sake, I’m specifically thinking of a rather brilliant yellow and orange sixties-print cotton wrap dress that the ever-amazing MiMi Goss passed on to me. It’s the quintessential summer dress – cheerful and floaty – which just serves to illustrate my point all the better: that even the most ‘seasonal’ of clothes can be reworked in such a way as to give them multiple possibilities.
On a forty degree January day…I would wear the dress completely by itself, with a pretty red bra underneath so that I could wrap the front more loosely. If you’re going to bra flash, at least be self-aware here and make the bra a part of the outfit’s aesthetic. A narrow eighties gold stretchy belt highlights the waist, without being so thick and so tight as to impair air circulation around the waist. Big gold accessories – oversize earings, layers of bangles, a few rings, gold Melissa tote – draw attention away from the body, which can look a bit bloated and engorged when the dress isn’t held in by a wide waist. But when temperatures are so hot you can cook an egg on your front step, it’s time to take a more relaxed approach to your body. People won’t notice your upper arms or other parts you prefer to keep hidden if you look cool and chick in the heat, and if you employ some clever visual tricks to move the eye away from the parts you don’t like. Flat leather Jesus-type sandals with cute tooled-leather detailing is my footwear of choice – heels are unthinkable with my propensity to swollen feet. Massive square shades and a dash of sandalwood essential oil complete the look – regular perfume, in this heat, reacts badly with my skin and the floral fragrances I tend to favour can become overpowering in the heat.
On a twenty eight degree February day…not quite hot enough to justify exposing my flabby upper arms, so it’s time for a little cap sleeved cotton cardi and a wide belt in a similar colour to the cardi to pull it all in and give that flattering wasp-waist look – wrapping the dress as tightly as possible helps here too, and makes the fullness of the skirt more apparent. Because it’s a bit cooler, the wide belt won’t be an issue, particularly if it’s leather, and the cardi will provide some welcome coverage. A nifty pair of heels lengthens the leg line and gives a lovely curve to my ankles. A quick stroke of some shimmering body crème of highlighter along the front of my legs highlights the summer colour my skin’s picked up. A neat Glomesh purse adds to the retro-styled feel and, if I had the time, I’d put some soft waves through my hair. A dangly necklace that draws attention to some fairly spectacular cleavage – generated by the tight wrapping and wide belt – and draws the eye in towards the parts of the body I want to show off. As it’s still quite warm, I’d finish with a spritz of something light and summery. As a child of the nineties, Tommy Girl is the clear winner for me, but something else light and sweet would also do a treat – Clinique Happy or L’eau de Issy would work nicely too.
On a nineteen degree April day…I need a little bit more warmth. In come the black opaque stockings and boots. Keeping the stockings and boots in the same shade – black, most usually for me – helps make your legs look long and slender. Choose boots that hug your ankles, further showing off the loveliness of your legs. A burnt orange silk camisole – technically it’s sleepwear, but who cares when it’s so pretty – under the dress adds an extra layer of warmth without too much bulk. A long sleeved cardi – probably not in wool, the sun’s still shining after all – held into the waist with a wide belt adds warmth, covers my arms, and again creates that wasp-waist which is so appealing. On days like today, it’s my great pleasure to raid my scarf collection – as I have a rather long neck, scarves look lovely on me, and also have the advantage of breaking up the large expanse of my chest area – I choose a pretty silk one and wrap it several times, as a full pashmina would probably be overkill. A cute pair of suedette gloves is a must, as someone who suffers from cold hands. Finally, jewellery. As I’m wearing a scarf a necklace would be lost, so some fun earrings and a funky brooch pinned to my scarf is the bling of choice. A large red leather tote harmonizes with the autumnal hues in the landscape. Perfume comes into its own in autumn – the cooler temperatures make it easier to wear on the skin, so feel free to wear whatever suits your mood on the day.
On a ten degree June day…now here is where you really have to pull out all the layering stops and rug up. Start with a couple of pairs of tights – to keep it interesting, layer an open lace or net tight over a solid opaque stocking, in the same colour for a textured effect or go for contrast – eg red opaque stocking, grey macro-nets. It’s up to you how much attention you draw to your legs – but I’d be inclined to go bold as we all need a bit of a boost in winter. Boots with a thick pair of woolly socks to keep your toes tosty warm also helps. Then it’s time for your top half – layer a long sleeved scoop-neck tee shirt under the dress. My layering items of preference are usually fine gauge wool or silk/cotton blends because they’re comfortable to wear, warm, and don’t add bulk. You can then add a cardigan over the top and belt the whole thing together if the cardigan is fine gauge, or, if it’s chunky, I’d be inclined to belt the dress only and leave it open. This is the perfect weather for scarves, so embrace it and bundle up – you can wear more than one scarf twisted together to give extra warmth and a bit of a colour burst too. Gloves, again, come into their own here – I’d leave the suedette ones at home though in preference for fine cashmere or leather, which will keep your fingers warmer. Finally, a coat should top the ensemble off. I have several coats of varying weights, and I find that, as many building are heated in the winter, a super-bulky coat can be a pain to lugg about the office or the library when you don’t need it – depending on what you have on in your day, it might actually be better to go for a lighter, more transportable coat than that super-bulky number appropriate for the arcitc. As there’s a lot of layering going on already, I’d keep the jewellery and the bag simple – perhaps a brooch on your coat lapel and that red leather tote that’s got a nice clean line.
As you can see, layering is the key to the Trannie look – dresses with cardigans, skirts with tights and boots, polo necks under summer tops – which means that the Trannie aesthetic finds its spiritual home with those of us who embrace the more bohemian look and lifestyle - a shout out to all my perpetual students while I’m here. Having said that though, I firmly believe that Trannie-ism is for everybody, versatility being its defining characteristic. If you’re an office worker, like my dear friends Clementine Kemp and Kitty Gilfeather, and MiMi Goss, the Trannie can work just as well for you too. In professional situations, clean lines and layering under your outer clothes rather than over, keeps you looking sharp while making the most of your existing wardrobe. So, for instance, if you want to extend the life of that gorgeous Veronika Maine summer office dress, pop a fine-gauge wool polo neck underneath for extra warmth, along with a pair of opaque stockings and some boots. With a couple of tweaks, you’ve just doubled the wear you’ll get out of that dress. Indeed, if you encounter some really chilly weather, you can further layer with a neat cardigan – again, in a fine gauge knit to keep the look professional – over the dress/polo neck combination, and hold the whole thing together with a wide belt. So long as you keep everything in fine gauge, you’ll look fabulous and keep warm. Come spring and summer, you’ll gradually be able to remove your layers, and enjoy another season of wearing that little shift dress or that floaty frock. Because, let’s face it, we’ve all got a bit of Trannie in our closet, and there’s not time like the present to bring it out...
As the mornings in out delightful nation’s capital crisp up, and the leaves start turning, chain stores and boutiques begin rolling out the new season’s stock. I’m sure that every fashionista looks forward to seasonal change over as much as I do – it’s like the beginning of the fashion footy season, working out which styles have been pensioned off to the backbench and assessing the merits of the upcoming stars. Financially, though, all these new goodies artfully displayed in shop windows can be rather a hazard to those of us on a budgetary shoestring.
Enter the Trannie. Now, I’m not referring to a transvestite or a transsexual – although I feel that both of these social groups have significant aesthetic contributions to fashion and our understandings of gender. But that’s a homily for another time.
What I mean by Trannie is a Trans-Seasonal-Wonder. It’s a little trick I discovered a few years ago and it’s made my life so much more fabulous. Some pieces of clothing, with careful styling, can cross seasonal boundaries with the right accessorisation, effectively doubling the amount of times you will wear them with a little bit of careful planning. When you start to think in Trannie terms, it makes sense to purchase that lovely summery frock – because you know that you’ll be wearing it right into May and starting again in August. Likewise, you’ll be able to assess what you need to buy this season in a more rational light – being aware, for instance, that that woolly long sleeved dress at three hundred dollars isn’t going to give you much of a return on the purchase price unless you are planning to wear it every other day from May-August. But that short sleeved Galaxy dress on the hander next to it will certainly earn its keep in your closet.
To illustrate this point, I’m offering some seasonal descriptions of Trannie dressing, to show how the same dress can be worn throughout the better part of the year. For arguments’ sake, I’m specifically thinking of a rather brilliant yellow and orange sixties-print cotton wrap dress that the ever-amazing MiMi Goss passed on to me. It’s the quintessential summer dress – cheerful and floaty – which just serves to illustrate my point all the better: that even the most ‘seasonal’ of clothes can be reworked in such a way as to give them multiple possibilities.
On a forty degree January day…I would wear the dress completely by itself, with a pretty red bra underneath so that I could wrap the front more loosely. If you’re going to bra flash, at least be self-aware here and make the bra a part of the outfit’s aesthetic. A narrow eighties gold stretchy belt highlights the waist, without being so thick and so tight as to impair air circulation around the waist. Big gold accessories – oversize earings, layers of bangles, a few rings, gold Melissa tote – draw attention away from the body, which can look a bit bloated and engorged when the dress isn’t held in by a wide waist. But when temperatures are so hot you can cook an egg on your front step, it’s time to take a more relaxed approach to your body. People won’t notice your upper arms or other parts you prefer to keep hidden if you look cool and chick in the heat, and if you employ some clever visual tricks to move the eye away from the parts you don’t like. Flat leather Jesus-type sandals with cute tooled-leather detailing is my footwear of choice – heels are unthinkable with my propensity to swollen feet. Massive square shades and a dash of sandalwood essential oil complete the look – regular perfume, in this heat, reacts badly with my skin and the floral fragrances I tend to favour can become overpowering in the heat.
On a twenty eight degree February day…not quite hot enough to justify exposing my flabby upper arms, so it’s time for a little cap sleeved cotton cardi and a wide belt in a similar colour to the cardi to pull it all in and give that flattering wasp-waist look – wrapping the dress as tightly as possible helps here too, and makes the fullness of the skirt more apparent. Because it’s a bit cooler, the wide belt won’t be an issue, particularly if it’s leather, and the cardi will provide some welcome coverage. A nifty pair of heels lengthens the leg line and gives a lovely curve to my ankles. A quick stroke of some shimmering body crème of highlighter along the front of my legs highlights the summer colour my skin’s picked up. A neat Glomesh purse adds to the retro-styled feel and, if I had the time, I’d put some soft waves through my hair. A dangly necklace that draws attention to some fairly spectacular cleavage – generated by the tight wrapping and wide belt – and draws the eye in towards the parts of the body I want to show off. As it’s still quite warm, I’d finish with a spritz of something light and summery. As a child of the nineties, Tommy Girl is the clear winner for me, but something else light and sweet would also do a treat – Clinique Happy or L’eau de Issy would work nicely too.
On a nineteen degree April day…I need a little bit more warmth. In come the black opaque stockings and boots. Keeping the stockings and boots in the same shade – black, most usually for me – helps make your legs look long and slender. Choose boots that hug your ankles, further showing off the loveliness of your legs. A burnt orange silk camisole – technically it’s sleepwear, but who cares when it’s so pretty – under the dress adds an extra layer of warmth without too much bulk. A long sleeved cardi – probably not in wool, the sun’s still shining after all – held into the waist with a wide belt adds warmth, covers my arms, and again creates that wasp-waist which is so appealing. On days like today, it’s my great pleasure to raid my scarf collection – as I have a rather long neck, scarves look lovely on me, and also have the advantage of breaking up the large expanse of my chest area – I choose a pretty silk one and wrap it several times, as a full pashmina would probably be overkill. A cute pair of suedette gloves is a must, as someone who suffers from cold hands. Finally, jewellery. As I’m wearing a scarf a necklace would be lost, so some fun earrings and a funky brooch pinned to my scarf is the bling of choice. A large red leather tote harmonizes with the autumnal hues in the landscape. Perfume comes into its own in autumn – the cooler temperatures make it easier to wear on the skin, so feel free to wear whatever suits your mood on the day.
On a ten degree June day…now here is where you really have to pull out all the layering stops and rug up. Start with a couple of pairs of tights – to keep it interesting, layer an open lace or net tight over a solid opaque stocking, in the same colour for a textured effect or go for contrast – eg red opaque stocking, grey macro-nets. It’s up to you how much attention you draw to your legs – but I’d be inclined to go bold as we all need a bit of a boost in winter. Boots with a thick pair of woolly socks to keep your toes tosty warm also helps. Then it’s time for your top half – layer a long sleeved scoop-neck tee shirt under the dress. My layering items of preference are usually fine gauge wool or silk/cotton blends because they’re comfortable to wear, warm, and don’t add bulk. You can then add a cardigan over the top and belt the whole thing together if the cardigan is fine gauge, or, if it’s chunky, I’d be inclined to belt the dress only and leave it open. This is the perfect weather for scarves, so embrace it and bundle up – you can wear more than one scarf twisted together to give extra warmth and a bit of a colour burst too. Gloves, again, come into their own here – I’d leave the suedette ones at home though in preference for fine cashmere or leather, which will keep your fingers warmer. Finally, a coat should top the ensemble off. I have several coats of varying weights, and I find that, as many building are heated in the winter, a super-bulky coat can be a pain to lugg about the office or the library when you don’t need it – depending on what you have on in your day, it might actually be better to go for a lighter, more transportable coat than that super-bulky number appropriate for the arcitc. As there’s a lot of layering going on already, I’d keep the jewellery and the bag simple – perhaps a brooch on your coat lapel and that red leather tote that’s got a nice clean line.
As you can see, layering is the key to the Trannie look – dresses with cardigans, skirts with tights and boots, polo necks under summer tops – which means that the Trannie aesthetic finds its spiritual home with those of us who embrace the more bohemian look and lifestyle - a shout out to all my perpetual students while I’m here. Having said that though, I firmly believe that Trannie-ism is for everybody, versatility being its defining characteristic. If you’re an office worker, like my dear friends Clementine Kemp and Kitty Gilfeather, and MiMi Goss, the Trannie can work just as well for you too. In professional situations, clean lines and layering under your outer clothes rather than over, keeps you looking sharp while making the most of your existing wardrobe. So, for instance, if you want to extend the life of that gorgeous Veronika Maine summer office dress, pop a fine-gauge wool polo neck underneath for extra warmth, along with a pair of opaque stockings and some boots. With a couple of tweaks, you’ve just doubled the wear you’ll get out of that dress. Indeed, if you encounter some really chilly weather, you can further layer with a neat cardigan – again, in a fine gauge knit to keep the look professional – over the dress/polo neck combination, and hold the whole thing together with a wide belt. So long as you keep everything in fine gauge, you’ll look fabulous and keep warm. Come spring and summer, you’ll gradually be able to remove your layers, and enjoy another season of wearing that little shift dress or that floaty frock. Because, let’s face it, we’ve all got a bit of Trannie in our closet, and there’s not time like the present to bring it out...
Saturday, March 28, 2009
A Manifesto for Recessionistas: Painting the Town Red.
Conventional wisdom suggests that the best buys, clothing wise, are neutrals you can supposedly wear with everything. According to any piece I’ve read about financially sensible dressing for the cash-strapped, you ought to pick one or two neutrals – say, beige/black, navy/grey, chocolate/cream – and build your entire wardrobe from pieces in these colours, the idea being that you’ll wear an individual item more if it’s in a colour that goes with everything else in your wardrobe.
Well, that’s how it works in theory anyway.
Here’s how it goes in practice: you decide on the above mentioned combination of neutrals. You buy a white shirt, a black skirt, a beige bag and a charcoal sweater. You go home feeling smug, elegant and austere. A week later you are so bored that eating your own head sounds like fun and, like a yo-yo dieter, you race out to buy the first thing you see made from pink polyester with a sequin trim. And faux fur. With feather detailing.
Does this sound as tragic to you as it does to me? I hope so. Nothing upsets me more than the idea that colour, and colourful clothes, are the country bumpkin cousins to the cool and sophisticated neutrals. Not that I don’t like neutrals – far from it. It’s the idea that, if your finances are precarious, you should cut out colour, which bothers me. Just like someone going on a crash diet and cutting out all carbs, cutting out all colour from your tightly budgeted wardrobe will leave you crabby, irritable, and no better off than when you started out. Likewise, if you wear only colours, your wardrobe will end up bloated and flabby, like you will if you live exclusively on pasta.
Neither situation is where we want to end up in these financially troubled times. What we want is a happy medium, and here are my tips for how to achieve that…
Painting The Town Red: when the global economy is in the red, nothing speaks more about your fabulousness than colour – so paint the town red. By some sort of strange symbiotic inversion, the abovementioned tendency for people to choose neutrals in times of economic trouble actually means that adorning yourself with colour makes you look more Recessionista Regal and less Depression Drab. Wearing, say, a pair of red shoes instead of a pair of black ones conveys the message that you have enough money to not care that your shoes aren’t a ‘neutral’ that will ‘go with everything’. Even if those red flats are the only decent shoes you own this season, they won’t look like they were bought with that mindset, like their black or tan cousins would. Red flats, for their very supposed impracticality, suggest that you have dozens of shoes and bought these ones for purely aesthetic reasons, whereas black or tan flats look like you brought them for primarily practical reasons.
Same goes for all the other ‘big ticket’ items in your wardrobe – coats, dresses, boots, everyday bags, skirt and pants. In fact, the more money you spend on an item, and the more you wear it, the more I’d be inclined to argue that it should be brought in a colour, rather than a neutral. It’s all about tricking people to think you are on a bigger budget than you actually are by a few careful manipulations – or, rather, making your clothes look so fabulous that people wouldn’t think that money was a consideration in their purchase. Perhaps this is quite materialistic, and I’m happy to wear that title to a certain extent, but it’s quite nice when people mistake the pauper student for the well paid professional and vice versa.
There are some sage words I’d like to impart about colours, however. As fabulous as dressing colourfully can be, it can also go horribly wrong when you don’t think it through properly. The primary consideration here should, of course and at all times, be about what colours you actually like. If you hate pink, there is no point wearing it, even if makes look a vision of loveliness. It’s also worth pointing out here that certain colours work better on certain complexions – but that, within limits, you can change your complexion with a bit of tweaking. For instance, I don’t look at all good in yellow without my make up on – but with a bit of peachy blush it makes me look and feel great in the summertime, especially if I’ve picked up a bit of a tan.
Fashion gurus – Tinny and Susannah, I’m taking to you here – often delight in grouping people’s complexions into colour categories and prescribing a list of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ colours. I wouldn’t set any stock in these at all. Aside from the fact that no description of a colouring ‘type’ matches what I look like naturally - pale skin, rosy cheeks, dark blonde hair and almost black eyes, if you were wondering, although the hair colour is a law onto itself – they fail to take into account the fact that we can tweak our complexions with make up and that different textures and fabrics can make the exact same shade look totally different. Peach is hideous on me when it’s in a heavy block of fabric, but in sheers it’s lovely. I’m sure you’ve found similar.
So now that we’ve chucked the rules about who can wear what colours out the window, how are we to go about picking what colours work for us? The simple answer, my friends, is a tale of trial, error, and the triumph of instinct over instruction. Try clothes on. Hold colours up to your face. Choose colours you like – there’s probably a good reason why you’re drawn to particular colours, and you shouldn’t fight the feeling. I had an inexplicable attraction to acid green in my early adolescence. When I finally got to wear some, in the form of my very first pashmina, the inexplicable attraction became apparent – it’s one of the best shades for my mixed-up colouring.
Once you let yourself loose to experiment with colour, you’ll gradually find yourself noticing some trends in what looks good on you, and it’s from here that you should go about establishing what ‘does’ and ‘doesn’t’ suit you. In my case, I find that I suit mid-to-bright strength colours, with an emphasis on all the berry tones – the reds, the pinks, and the purples, along with yellows, greens, and greeny blues. You’ll probably find something completely different and idiosyncratic to suit the undoubtedly lovely colouring that the goddess gave you too, so don’t panic if nothing seems to work at first.
And here’s where you really start to feel the hip pocket benefits: once you’ve worked out what colours you look good in, like, and will wear, you can buy those big ticket items in outrageous colours with clarity and confidence that you will actually wear them and look fabulous. Furthermore, you’ll be able to coordinate the colour palette of your wardrobe with much more freshness and vitality than if you had a monochromatic closet. Once you’ve opened your eyes to colour and refined your sense of colour awareness, you’ll realise that colours work brilliantly in the most unexpected partnerships – my favourite combinations, the ones that draw the most compliments, are the ones that you never really see anywhere else – thus eliminating the worry about whether or not that acid green coat will work with your mulberry coloured skirt (it will). Having a closet full of colours, you quickly realise that ‘matching’ isn’t as important as we’ve been taught to believe – because that amazing green bag not only has good feng suei, but goes with everything on account of its merits as a stand alone piece. When your pieces are beautiful enough in their own right, who cares if your bag matches your shoes which match your dress which matches your scarf and coat?
The other thing about colour that makes it fabulous for the budget conscious Recessionista? It lifts your mood like nothing else can, and, in troubled economic times, when every front page of newspaper brings more bad news, we could all use a bit of a lift. Before you pop a Prozac, try popping on a purple dress, and feel the difference – I promise you you’ll almost always feel better immediately. Embrace the rainbow, and no one will be any the wiser that your pot of gold at the end of it is on the smaller side.
Well, that’s how it works in theory anyway.
Here’s how it goes in practice: you decide on the above mentioned combination of neutrals. You buy a white shirt, a black skirt, a beige bag and a charcoal sweater. You go home feeling smug, elegant and austere. A week later you are so bored that eating your own head sounds like fun and, like a yo-yo dieter, you race out to buy the first thing you see made from pink polyester with a sequin trim. And faux fur. With feather detailing.
Does this sound as tragic to you as it does to me? I hope so. Nothing upsets me more than the idea that colour, and colourful clothes, are the country bumpkin cousins to the cool and sophisticated neutrals. Not that I don’t like neutrals – far from it. It’s the idea that, if your finances are precarious, you should cut out colour, which bothers me. Just like someone going on a crash diet and cutting out all carbs, cutting out all colour from your tightly budgeted wardrobe will leave you crabby, irritable, and no better off than when you started out. Likewise, if you wear only colours, your wardrobe will end up bloated and flabby, like you will if you live exclusively on pasta.
Neither situation is where we want to end up in these financially troubled times. What we want is a happy medium, and here are my tips for how to achieve that…
Painting The Town Red: when the global economy is in the red, nothing speaks more about your fabulousness than colour – so paint the town red. By some sort of strange symbiotic inversion, the abovementioned tendency for people to choose neutrals in times of economic trouble actually means that adorning yourself with colour makes you look more Recessionista Regal and less Depression Drab. Wearing, say, a pair of red shoes instead of a pair of black ones conveys the message that you have enough money to not care that your shoes aren’t a ‘neutral’ that will ‘go with everything’. Even if those red flats are the only decent shoes you own this season, they won’t look like they were bought with that mindset, like their black or tan cousins would. Red flats, for their very supposed impracticality, suggest that you have dozens of shoes and bought these ones for purely aesthetic reasons, whereas black or tan flats look like you brought them for primarily practical reasons.
Same goes for all the other ‘big ticket’ items in your wardrobe – coats, dresses, boots, everyday bags, skirt and pants. In fact, the more money you spend on an item, and the more you wear it, the more I’d be inclined to argue that it should be brought in a colour, rather than a neutral. It’s all about tricking people to think you are on a bigger budget than you actually are by a few careful manipulations – or, rather, making your clothes look so fabulous that people wouldn’t think that money was a consideration in their purchase. Perhaps this is quite materialistic, and I’m happy to wear that title to a certain extent, but it’s quite nice when people mistake the pauper student for the well paid professional and vice versa.
There are some sage words I’d like to impart about colours, however. As fabulous as dressing colourfully can be, it can also go horribly wrong when you don’t think it through properly. The primary consideration here should, of course and at all times, be about what colours you actually like. If you hate pink, there is no point wearing it, even if makes look a vision of loveliness. It’s also worth pointing out here that certain colours work better on certain complexions – but that, within limits, you can change your complexion with a bit of tweaking. For instance, I don’t look at all good in yellow without my make up on – but with a bit of peachy blush it makes me look and feel great in the summertime, especially if I’ve picked up a bit of a tan.
Fashion gurus – Tinny and Susannah, I’m taking to you here – often delight in grouping people’s complexions into colour categories and prescribing a list of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ colours. I wouldn’t set any stock in these at all. Aside from the fact that no description of a colouring ‘type’ matches what I look like naturally - pale skin, rosy cheeks, dark blonde hair and almost black eyes, if you were wondering, although the hair colour is a law onto itself – they fail to take into account the fact that we can tweak our complexions with make up and that different textures and fabrics can make the exact same shade look totally different. Peach is hideous on me when it’s in a heavy block of fabric, but in sheers it’s lovely. I’m sure you’ve found similar.
So now that we’ve chucked the rules about who can wear what colours out the window, how are we to go about picking what colours work for us? The simple answer, my friends, is a tale of trial, error, and the triumph of instinct over instruction. Try clothes on. Hold colours up to your face. Choose colours you like – there’s probably a good reason why you’re drawn to particular colours, and you shouldn’t fight the feeling. I had an inexplicable attraction to acid green in my early adolescence. When I finally got to wear some, in the form of my very first pashmina, the inexplicable attraction became apparent – it’s one of the best shades for my mixed-up colouring.
Once you let yourself loose to experiment with colour, you’ll gradually find yourself noticing some trends in what looks good on you, and it’s from here that you should go about establishing what ‘does’ and ‘doesn’t’ suit you. In my case, I find that I suit mid-to-bright strength colours, with an emphasis on all the berry tones – the reds, the pinks, and the purples, along with yellows, greens, and greeny blues. You’ll probably find something completely different and idiosyncratic to suit the undoubtedly lovely colouring that the goddess gave you too, so don’t panic if nothing seems to work at first.
And here’s where you really start to feel the hip pocket benefits: once you’ve worked out what colours you look good in, like, and will wear, you can buy those big ticket items in outrageous colours with clarity and confidence that you will actually wear them and look fabulous. Furthermore, you’ll be able to coordinate the colour palette of your wardrobe with much more freshness and vitality than if you had a monochromatic closet. Once you’ve opened your eyes to colour and refined your sense of colour awareness, you’ll realise that colours work brilliantly in the most unexpected partnerships – my favourite combinations, the ones that draw the most compliments, are the ones that you never really see anywhere else – thus eliminating the worry about whether or not that acid green coat will work with your mulberry coloured skirt (it will). Having a closet full of colours, you quickly realise that ‘matching’ isn’t as important as we’ve been taught to believe – because that amazing green bag not only has good feng suei, but goes with everything on account of its merits as a stand alone piece. When your pieces are beautiful enough in their own right, who cares if your bag matches your shoes which match your dress which matches your scarf and coat?
The other thing about colour that makes it fabulous for the budget conscious Recessionista? It lifts your mood like nothing else can, and, in troubled economic times, when every front page of newspaper brings more bad news, we could all use a bit of a lift. Before you pop a Prozac, try popping on a purple dress, and feel the difference – I promise you you’ll almost always feel better immediately. Embrace the rainbow, and no one will be any the wiser that your pot of gold at the end of it is on the smaller side.
Monday, March 23, 2009
A Manifesto for Recessionistas: Be A Gatherer, Not A Hunter.
I think it’s only appropriate, with the endless talk of the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) and its impact on the garment industry, to devote a series of entries to the phenomenon of the Recessionista. Recessionista, of course, being a play on the term Fashionista – ie when you plonk a Fashionista in the middle of a recession you get a hybrid species of thrifty stylist – a Recessionista.
I have a confession to make. I’ve been a Recessionista all my styling life. Being a student for - well, forever, having gone straight from high school to university and now staying on for a PhD – means that I’ve never been able to dress without one eye on some fairly tight budgetary constraints. I viewed these constraints with contempt in my first three years at university – but in my third year, I began to see them as an advantage. Working within one’s means, rather than spending beyond them, can yield even more fabulous fashion results than a platinum AMEX card and a sugar daddy.
The fashion world has cottoned on to the need for thrift in the shadow of the GFC. Articles in various fashion rags spruk the benefits of ‘investment dressing’, usually with a focus on spending money on the basics and whittling down one’s wardrobe to an (ahem) ‘austere’ black and grey palette, in the simplest of shapes.
Whittling down and dispensing with fripperies has its merits. However, now is not the time for self expression and creativity to be the metaphorical babies thrown out with the bathwater. In fact, let these hard economic times flex your creativity and fabulousness, which, in times of plenty, can atrophy like a muscle choked by the fat of easy available credit and the fiscal licence to shop and dress impudently.
Here, from me to you, is the first of my top tips for being the ultimate Recessionista, inspired by years of fashion on a budget. Use them wisely, and stay fabulous, even when everyone around you is clamouring for the demure and the drab.
Be A Gatherer, Not A Hunter: as much as biological essentialism appals me as a sociologist, it’s possibly an apt metaphor for the way that a Recessionista needs to go about building her wardrobe. Women, for whatever reason, tend to have innate ‘gathering’ skills – and there is never a better time than a recession to use them.
Being a fashion gatherer means revolutionising the way that you shop. Let me tell you a tale of two friends, Gatherer Gertrude and Hunter Hermionie:
Gatherer Gertrude has a hot date at Sage on the weekend with Gorgeous Gareth. She’s a bit nervous – isn’t everybody before a date? – but refuses to run out to The Canberra Centre as soon as Gorgeous Gareth has made the reservation. In fact, it’s her off pay week, and she’s got $200 to last till next Thursday after she’s put petrol in the car. Even if work wasn’t so frantic, a shopping spree would still be out of the question. Instead, she takes a look in her wardrobe (and under her bed, and in the laundry hamper, and at the bottom of the pile of stuff that the cat was making a nest on…) to see what she’s got put aside for such an occasion. Sure enough, there’s a cournicopia of dresses, skirt and tops to choose from, because Gatherer Gertrude picks up bits and pieces she likes as she sees them and when she can afford them. Her friend, Hunter Hermionie, thinks it’s foolish for Gatherer Gertrude to ‘fritter away’ her meagre salary on whimsies she spies at market stalls and in kooky little boutiques - but more about Hunter Hermionie later. Gatherer Gertrude finds – wedged behind the column heater, of all places - a cute beaded top that she bought during a Sunday wander along Lonsdale Street last month. Silk, with a cute bow detail, she had no idea what she would wear it to at the time but she liked it and it was on special so why not buy it?. The bead detail lends itself to a more sedate pairing on the bottom half – in comes that pleated Country Road skirt she bought at a sample sale in first year. It’s a strange colour – a dull apple green – but it was forty dollars at the time and she liked it, so she’d bought it and been surprised at how much she’d worn it in the years since. Throwing on a belt she’d picked up at the post clearance sales – wide, black patent – and puling the whole thing together with her mum’s old Glomesh clutch, all that remained was for her to wander around the Gorman house markets on Saturday morning, picking up a fabulous pair of earings which offset the green of the skirt nicely. After lunching with Mummykins in Manuka, Gatherer Gertrude walked past Lyn & Barrett and happened to notice that Pleasure State was on sale – because she hadn’t had to rush out and buy a whole new outfit, she could justify putting that bargain lacy bra and pants set on her credit card – she could have $75 hanging over her head this month. As the evening rolled around, Gatherer Gertrude was feeling sexy and fabulous from the skin out. Gorgeous Gareth noticed she was glowing. Gatherer Gerturde was flattered when several heads – male and female – turned as she sasheyed through the restaurant to their table. Gatherer Gerturde didn’t like to blow her own horn, but she had to admit, she could understand why – she looked pretty damned foxy, shining like a star amoungst all the staid black cocktail dresses and skinny jean/glittery top combos other clotheshorses were wearing. And she’d done it without too much hassle and debt. She felt fantastic the whole night, her good mood rubbing off on Gorgeous Gareth. Without getting MA 15+ on you, they had the perfect ending to the perfect evening, and Gorgeous Gareth most certainly appreciated Gatherer Gertrude’s special purchases.
Hunter Hermione, unlike her dear friend Gatherer Gertrude, doesn’t like to spend money on clothes when there’s no clear purpose. Hunter Hermione doesn’t understand how Gatherer Gertrude can throw so much money away on clothes – it seems like Gatherer Gertrude buys something every other week! Anyway, Hunky Hank has asked Hunter Hermione out to Ottoman on Friday night. Hunky Hank calls to confirm this on Monday. Hunter Hermione checks her bank balance as soon as Hunky Hank has hung up – as it’s off pay week, she’s only got $200 left after she’s put petrol in the car for the week. Unfortunately, there’s nothing she feels really excited about wearing in her functional black-and-gray wardrobe – nothing that would do for such an expensive night out at any rate. Steeling her resolve, Hunter Hermione decides that this is a job for her credit card. This was okay. She’s normally so restrained, she thinks that she will be able to justify putting a new frock and maybe some shoes on her Visa. Work was a bitch that week so Hunter Hermione didn’t have a chance to get a look in at the shops till her lunch break on Thursday. Armed with her credit card, she hits The Canberra Centre running on Thursday lunchtime. Hungry, tired and with sore feet, she does scans of all the stores that she normally likes. She sees a sensible black frock, nothing special but still nice enough, in the window of Saba but it’s $320. More than she wants to spend, she’d have to Visa it…time being limited, she power walks to DJ’s and is underwhelmed there too. Everything is out of budget, and the one dress she did like was not available in her size, and wouldn’t be coming in again until the following week. The sands of her lunch hour rapidly dwindling through the hourglass, Hunter Hermione hightails it back to Saba, throws the black frock on over her work blouse and skirt – yep, zip does up – and puts it on the visa. The sales assistant, noticing that Hunter Hermione is a little flustered and distracted, suggests she pick up a tangerine belt to brighten the otherwise plain dress. Hunter Hermione agrees, because there’s nothing else she has in her cupboard to brighten up the outfit – another hundred dollars later, she’s out of the store, with debt on her credit card and a sinking feeling that she’s going to look as bland as a bowl of mashed potato on Friday night. Friday night rolls around and Hunter Hermione feels as uninspiring as she looks. The dress is alright, but it’s a bit loose around the bust and she’s had to pad it out with chicken fillets. The belt, a pretty colour in its own right, is swamped by the overwhelming blackness of the outfit and looks just plain silly. Hunter Hermione only has two bags, subscribing to the ‘investment dressing’ view which states that you should buy less and of greater quality. Faced with the choice between a black Oroton tote and a Country Road hobo in beige, Hunter Hermione opts for the Oroton. The bag is too large for the outfit and swamps the dress, which just adds to Hunter Hermione’s feeling that this outfit isn’t working. But too late, Hunky Hank is knocking at the door and she has to go. Hunky Hank wonders what he’s done wrong – Hunter Hermione is in a filthy mood and he can’t work out why. At the restaurant, three other women are wearing the same dress as Hunter Hermione. She has never felt less fabulous in her whole life, and wishes that she hadn’t talked herself out of buying that red silk dress Gatherer Gertrude had spied for her during the post Christmas sales. Hunter Hermione’s mood doesn’t pick at all, and by desert, she’s wishing that she was at home, in her sensible Peter Alexander stripy Pyjamas, eating her weight in hazelnut gelato. Which is exactly where she is an hour after the desert course, Hunky Hank having decided that Hunter Hermione must be tired and needs to have a good night of undisturbed rest in her own bed.
Now this is all a teensy bit exaggerated – but I’m sure you get the picture. The budget conscious Recessionista should always take up a bargain where and when she sees it, if she can afford it. There’s a lot to be said for taking a ‘store cupboard’ approach to your wardrobe – gathering fashion’s nuts and berries and storing them away for a fruitless season. Like my grandmother who Vacoloa-ed summer peaches and apricots, I like to think of the little things that we buy when we see them – a pretty dress on sale, an antique broach – as building a bountiful wardrobe so that when we do have that special dinner, or that important presentation, or that spring wedding, to go to, we can pull together a stunning outfit with minimal effort and minimal cost. That way, when you’re asked where you got your fabulous outfit on the way to the ladies, you can utter the line that all true fashionistas aspire to utter:
‘oh this? I’ve had it for years, it’s fabulous isn’t it?’
Proving that, not only are you chic, but you are timeless and effortless as well. And that’s not half bad for something you found behind the column heater.
I have a confession to make. I’ve been a Recessionista all my styling life. Being a student for - well, forever, having gone straight from high school to university and now staying on for a PhD – means that I’ve never been able to dress without one eye on some fairly tight budgetary constraints. I viewed these constraints with contempt in my first three years at university – but in my third year, I began to see them as an advantage. Working within one’s means, rather than spending beyond them, can yield even more fabulous fashion results than a platinum AMEX card and a sugar daddy.
The fashion world has cottoned on to the need for thrift in the shadow of the GFC. Articles in various fashion rags spruk the benefits of ‘investment dressing’, usually with a focus on spending money on the basics and whittling down one’s wardrobe to an (ahem) ‘austere’ black and grey palette, in the simplest of shapes.
Whittling down and dispensing with fripperies has its merits. However, now is not the time for self expression and creativity to be the metaphorical babies thrown out with the bathwater. In fact, let these hard economic times flex your creativity and fabulousness, which, in times of plenty, can atrophy like a muscle choked by the fat of easy available credit and the fiscal licence to shop and dress impudently.
Here, from me to you, is the first of my top tips for being the ultimate Recessionista, inspired by years of fashion on a budget. Use them wisely, and stay fabulous, even when everyone around you is clamouring for the demure and the drab.
Be A Gatherer, Not A Hunter: as much as biological essentialism appals me as a sociologist, it’s possibly an apt metaphor for the way that a Recessionista needs to go about building her wardrobe. Women, for whatever reason, tend to have innate ‘gathering’ skills – and there is never a better time than a recession to use them.
Being a fashion gatherer means revolutionising the way that you shop. Let me tell you a tale of two friends, Gatherer Gertrude and Hunter Hermionie:
Gatherer Gertrude has a hot date at Sage on the weekend with Gorgeous Gareth. She’s a bit nervous – isn’t everybody before a date? – but refuses to run out to The Canberra Centre as soon as Gorgeous Gareth has made the reservation. In fact, it’s her off pay week, and she’s got $200 to last till next Thursday after she’s put petrol in the car. Even if work wasn’t so frantic, a shopping spree would still be out of the question. Instead, she takes a look in her wardrobe (and under her bed, and in the laundry hamper, and at the bottom of the pile of stuff that the cat was making a nest on…) to see what she’s got put aside for such an occasion. Sure enough, there’s a cournicopia of dresses, skirt and tops to choose from, because Gatherer Gertrude picks up bits and pieces she likes as she sees them and when she can afford them. Her friend, Hunter Hermionie, thinks it’s foolish for Gatherer Gertrude to ‘fritter away’ her meagre salary on whimsies she spies at market stalls and in kooky little boutiques - but more about Hunter Hermionie later. Gatherer Gertrude finds – wedged behind the column heater, of all places - a cute beaded top that she bought during a Sunday wander along Lonsdale Street last month. Silk, with a cute bow detail, she had no idea what she would wear it to at the time but she liked it and it was on special so why not buy it?. The bead detail lends itself to a more sedate pairing on the bottom half – in comes that pleated Country Road skirt she bought at a sample sale in first year. It’s a strange colour – a dull apple green – but it was forty dollars at the time and she liked it, so she’d bought it and been surprised at how much she’d worn it in the years since. Throwing on a belt she’d picked up at the post clearance sales – wide, black patent – and puling the whole thing together with her mum’s old Glomesh clutch, all that remained was for her to wander around the Gorman house markets on Saturday morning, picking up a fabulous pair of earings which offset the green of the skirt nicely. After lunching with Mummykins in Manuka, Gatherer Gertrude walked past Lyn & Barrett and happened to notice that Pleasure State was on sale – because she hadn’t had to rush out and buy a whole new outfit, she could justify putting that bargain lacy bra and pants set on her credit card – she could have $75 hanging over her head this month. As the evening rolled around, Gatherer Gertrude was feeling sexy and fabulous from the skin out. Gorgeous Gareth noticed she was glowing. Gatherer Gerturde was flattered when several heads – male and female – turned as she sasheyed through the restaurant to their table. Gatherer Gerturde didn’t like to blow her own horn, but she had to admit, she could understand why – she looked pretty damned foxy, shining like a star amoungst all the staid black cocktail dresses and skinny jean/glittery top combos other clotheshorses were wearing. And she’d done it without too much hassle and debt. She felt fantastic the whole night, her good mood rubbing off on Gorgeous Gareth. Without getting MA 15+ on you, they had the perfect ending to the perfect evening, and Gorgeous Gareth most certainly appreciated Gatherer Gertrude’s special purchases.
Hunter Hermione, unlike her dear friend Gatherer Gertrude, doesn’t like to spend money on clothes when there’s no clear purpose. Hunter Hermione doesn’t understand how Gatherer Gertrude can throw so much money away on clothes – it seems like Gatherer Gertrude buys something every other week! Anyway, Hunky Hank has asked Hunter Hermione out to Ottoman on Friday night. Hunky Hank calls to confirm this on Monday. Hunter Hermione checks her bank balance as soon as Hunky Hank has hung up – as it’s off pay week, she’s only got $200 left after she’s put petrol in the car for the week. Unfortunately, there’s nothing she feels really excited about wearing in her functional black-and-gray wardrobe – nothing that would do for such an expensive night out at any rate. Steeling her resolve, Hunter Hermione decides that this is a job for her credit card. This was okay. She’s normally so restrained, she thinks that she will be able to justify putting a new frock and maybe some shoes on her Visa. Work was a bitch that week so Hunter Hermione didn’t have a chance to get a look in at the shops till her lunch break on Thursday. Armed with her credit card, she hits The Canberra Centre running on Thursday lunchtime. Hungry, tired and with sore feet, she does scans of all the stores that she normally likes. She sees a sensible black frock, nothing special but still nice enough, in the window of Saba but it’s $320. More than she wants to spend, she’d have to Visa it…time being limited, she power walks to DJ’s and is underwhelmed there too. Everything is out of budget, and the one dress she did like was not available in her size, and wouldn’t be coming in again until the following week. The sands of her lunch hour rapidly dwindling through the hourglass, Hunter Hermione hightails it back to Saba, throws the black frock on over her work blouse and skirt – yep, zip does up – and puts it on the visa. The sales assistant, noticing that Hunter Hermione is a little flustered and distracted, suggests she pick up a tangerine belt to brighten the otherwise plain dress. Hunter Hermione agrees, because there’s nothing else she has in her cupboard to brighten up the outfit – another hundred dollars later, she’s out of the store, with debt on her credit card and a sinking feeling that she’s going to look as bland as a bowl of mashed potato on Friday night. Friday night rolls around and Hunter Hermione feels as uninspiring as she looks. The dress is alright, but it’s a bit loose around the bust and she’s had to pad it out with chicken fillets. The belt, a pretty colour in its own right, is swamped by the overwhelming blackness of the outfit and looks just plain silly. Hunter Hermione only has two bags, subscribing to the ‘investment dressing’ view which states that you should buy less and of greater quality. Faced with the choice between a black Oroton tote and a Country Road hobo in beige, Hunter Hermione opts for the Oroton. The bag is too large for the outfit and swamps the dress, which just adds to Hunter Hermione’s feeling that this outfit isn’t working. But too late, Hunky Hank is knocking at the door and she has to go. Hunky Hank wonders what he’s done wrong – Hunter Hermione is in a filthy mood and he can’t work out why. At the restaurant, three other women are wearing the same dress as Hunter Hermione. She has never felt less fabulous in her whole life, and wishes that she hadn’t talked herself out of buying that red silk dress Gatherer Gertrude had spied for her during the post Christmas sales. Hunter Hermione’s mood doesn’t pick at all, and by desert, she’s wishing that she was at home, in her sensible Peter Alexander stripy Pyjamas, eating her weight in hazelnut gelato. Which is exactly where she is an hour after the desert course, Hunky Hank having decided that Hunter Hermione must be tired and needs to have a good night of undisturbed rest in her own bed.
Now this is all a teensy bit exaggerated – but I’m sure you get the picture. The budget conscious Recessionista should always take up a bargain where and when she sees it, if she can afford it. There’s a lot to be said for taking a ‘store cupboard’ approach to your wardrobe – gathering fashion’s nuts and berries and storing them away for a fruitless season. Like my grandmother who Vacoloa-ed summer peaches and apricots, I like to think of the little things that we buy when we see them – a pretty dress on sale, an antique broach – as building a bountiful wardrobe so that when we do have that special dinner, or that important presentation, or that spring wedding, to go to, we can pull together a stunning outfit with minimal effort and minimal cost. That way, when you’re asked where you got your fabulous outfit on the way to the ladies, you can utter the line that all true fashionistas aspire to utter:
‘oh this? I’ve had it for years, it’s fabulous isn’t it?’
Proving that, not only are you chic, but you are timeless and effortless as well. And that’s not half bad for something you found behind the column heater.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
