I’m not a massive follower of fashion and would definitely consider myself fashionably challenged. I’m not…I mean, I wear clothes. That’s a start right? OK fine. I have a serious fashion impairment. My inner fashionista just never really matured. When friends boast that they got YSL, DG, or CK I resist the temptation to write them a get well card, and for the longest time when people talked about catwalks, I thought they were referring to feline perambulatory techniques.  When it comes to clothes and accessories, I buy and wear whatever seems appropriate for the activity I am about to partake in (this doesn’t always go down too well – some people get really pissy when you even mention wearing Crocs to their weddings). If someone thinks something I am wearing looks good – well, it was a happy accident.

That’s not to say there aren’t moments when the mood takes me and I spend a little longer than normal trying to at least get colour coordinated (some people get really pissy when you wear neon oranges and greens together…because ‘Ooooh you’re hurting my retinas’. And also, it was the bride from the previous paragraph), but for the most part, I am all about being comfortable. If I could work in PJ’s and Ugg’s I would. But, from what I gather that would be classed as being unprofessional (even though it’s not explicitly forbidden in my contract…). I can’t stand the idea of attempting to walk with pain in my feet caused by sky-high heels – this only happens when I have to go to an event (think wedding) where a family member or close friend threatens to disown me should I turn up in jeans and trainers…(some people get really pissy…just always).  I’ve had the same pair of black heels for 9 years now. They’re not even a little bit scuffed (proud AF),  and I don’t buy into the whole ‘you get used to it’ thing – I think you’re in denial. You don’t get used to it. You just kill the nerves in your feet one little toe at a time.

Like that lady in Oxford street. She was teetering along in her 6 inchers in obvious pain, and to add to her balance issues she was carrying a bag with more room inside than your average London flat (it looked like it cost about the same too), and it just made me wonder why it is we are willing to put up with so much pain and discomfort simply to gain the approval of some people somewhere for such a short amount of time…

Before people get pissy (some people get really pissy about ambiguity in blog posts), I’m not knocking the fashion industry. Seriously. I think it’s incredible what some designers create, and for those truly passionate about fashion I imagine it’s a simple and obviously very visual way to showcase their personality and individuality, and for designers I’m assuming it’s all about sharing parts of yourself with the world and giving people a glimpse into what goes on inside your mind every day. In effect fashion is like a language which enables people to communicate with each other regardless of what actual languages they speak. And whether you like it or not, anything with that kind of power – you have to admit is pretty damn cool.  But I just don’t understand…well this:

I Don’t Get It…

I Still Don’t Get It.

Another Day in Camden

Is This Edible?

These Must Hurt!

Okay…

Love and Ouchiness

Ok, dress number four is just a Friday night in my hometown. but those shoes…ouch, and really?

I know I said fashion is a way to show people the goings on of your mind…but what the actual F? I’m struggling to process these, although I kind of get the feeling there’s something…more. A much deeper hidden meaning reserved for an elite few with these (like with abstract art) and it’s just going straight over my head. Hopefully that’s it. Who knows, maybe I’ll have an epiphany and get it someday. Or I’ll just give myself a migraine overthinking it. Oh well.

Happy fashioning!