The road to great style doesn’t always run smooth. At some point we’ve all been ensnared by a trend trap, some more than others. Read my personal fashion journey:
Fashion went through a frumpy phase in the early noughties with limp cotton skirts, weird crochet shrugs and circle belts in various shades of sludge flying off the shelves. That weird mum at school who fed her kids mung beans was suddenly so trendy. I briefly returned to the gypsy phase in year 9 with hoop earrings and my dressing gown belt tied around my head.
Taste the rainbow
A huge, multicoloured, patterned fleece, multicoloured patterned rucksack, jeans and clogs. This was the outfit I chose for my induction day at secondary school—I was out to make friends that day! Everyone else had nice, neat uniforms in navy, red or blue and I looked like a rainbow hippy catastrophe blundering through the corridors.
Years 11 – 13:
Underage drinking is pretty awkward. Underage drinking in small town pubs full of men three times your age is really awkward. The trick to getting served was to dress older, whilst still looking casual; it was important to blend in. I’d usually achieve this by starting with a base of a cardigan, a vest and a pencil skirt—in entirely clashing prints and colours. Next I’d add some obnoxiously big earrings, a quiff, black tights, red square-toed heels and a blue clutch with a giant corsage. I sometimes wonder if I got served simply because of the hypnotic effect of my dazzling colour and print combos.
Jeggings with baggy knees and a corset-style back
Moulin Rouge from behind, Nora Batty from the front; I really thought I was the shiz in these raunchy little numbers. You think they’re normal trousers but then I bend over and give everyone a flash of glittery silver lacing. Plus their high waist was great for tucking in those thermal vests my Mum used to buy me. Nice.
Flat, open-toe sandals with flesh-coloured tights
In my defence I committed this particular crime because I had sore heels and could barely walk in anything but flip flops. However, 10 minutes into my night out I realised that even flip flops or hobbling in agony would be preferable to webbed feet. I wanted to die with embarrassment or, failing that, plunge into the canal and swim away as fast as my frog feet would carry me.
Comfy, sturdy and well-made, these shoes had everything. Everything except style, that is. Super-conservative, with the sex appeal of a bag of rotting spuds (dressed in onesies and crocs), these horrors could have been sold as contraception, that’s how repellent they were! But still I loved them (so comfy, so practical) and wore them everywhere. I even wore them to Bassface but at least I could safely say no one else was dressed like me…
Special mentions also go to:
Footless tights worn with my massive PE trainers (Year 8)
Dresses worn over trousers long after the trend had died (Year 9-10)
Large belts worn under the bust (Years 9-11)
About the only time I am glad I wasn’t busty!
Over-plucked eyebrows (Years 9-13)
We’ve all done it, but not all of us used a razor and shaved off half their eyebrow. Several times.
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