The stone walls of Spain, I do adore them – all the textures dappled messy and coarse with colour, they are so beautiful to me. And next to an outfit so fluid, so light – I felt like I could almost float. I like the incongruity here, rough stone paired with smooth fabrics, clothes in muted colours worn with sunglasses so metallic they glare, slacks in an unexpected slate grey instead of black. You may have noticed, or perhaps not; consistency is not a thing I do – I notice it more and more amongst bloggers – defining their own personal brand by sticking to a certain style, a rota of colours or similar silhouettes. I couldn’t achieve that even if I tried, I’m all over the place, more of a scribble than a straight line when it comes to personal style.
I’ll wear anything and everything I like. There are more stories this way, there is more fun this way – years ago I wrote something along the lines of ‘if it isn’t fun, it isn’t fashion’ – looking back, its a tad trite but the sentiment still sticks to me. Must we take fashion as seriously as the magazines do? Do the colours of the season really matter all that much? Or whether the midi or mini is ‘in’? Do we really care all that much? No we don’t, well, I don’t at least. We might have these ‘trends’ in mind occasionally but when it comes down to it, we are going to buy whatever looks good in the changing room, regardless of how stylish the industry perceives it to be. So can I go from one style to a severely different look the next day? Ofcourse I can and ofcourse, I will and I do. I’ll bounce from retro to bohemian to tailored chic all in the short span of a few days and then I’ll circle back and reach a ridiculous point where I’m wearing a hat so big it gives me a headache. I’m a scribble, really I am – there are parallels but no straight lines.
As long as I like the outfit and it embraces whatever mood I am in right then, I don’t really care how it sits in this ongoing sequence of my outfits. I don’t like the word ‘trendy’ – it’s such a sad adjective to me – the desire to dress according to an opinion that comes from everyone but ourselves. I appreciate fashion and it’s endless self-expression and if anyone were to tell me it’s not an art form, I would scream in disagreement. But like all art, it’s subjective and based on emotions, mood, character – and countless other components that oscillate and shift as frequently as the weather. Trendy has no place in artistic expression. No place at all. Collect styles from current collections, like you would say, paint or music samples or quotes from books – add those to your personal repertoire and let them merge and explode into the things you choose to wear everyday. That, I think is art. Or, perhaps this rant is merely a way of justifying my flirtatious-almost-slutty approach to fashion – because I really do like to wear it all. Who knows, like I said, I’m a scribble.