Day two: Winter has come and black is my soul. Or outfit.

I tried really really hard to pull some colour from my wardrobe this morning. I had absolutely no luck. I find that what I wear is so influenced by how I feel, the sky, or sometimes by how I want to feel. That whole dress-for-the-job-you-want thing actually does work, even when applied to other situations.

Tropical Cyclone Debbie has crashed into the north end of Australia, and is slowly moving down the coast, wailing away and leaving great troughs of water in her wake. The first few chilly mornings have made their debut here in Melbourne, and day light savings is at an end this weekend. Whilst I lament the loss of those extra few hours of sunlight, the cold weather brings with it different pleasures. I grew up in a tropical land of many islands, where we had pretty much the same season all year around, albeit with a few more thunderstorms at times of the year. 31 degrees Celsius and humidity levels of hair-extremely-frizzy, constantly. The ever changing weather in Melbourne, with its four seasons in one day tendencies always enchanted me. Even when I was caught out without an umbrella, or when I had first moved here, and bought my first ever coat.

Ah my first coat. A true horror. Acquired at the famous Queen Victoria Market, I spotted this little beaut in one of the back stalls. A gorgeous dirty denim trench coat, with detachable fur stole. Pretty sure I bought it because I was obsessed with the Spice Girls as a teen, and I think Scary Spice might have worn something similar? I wore it with what is surprisingly now in fashion; the Canadian Tuxedo (ok, maybe my proportions were a bit off, but still; double denim! Ahead of the trends I was!). That was about 15 years ago. I still shudder; but in a slightly pleased with myself way. Its good to have horror stories like that – they make for hilarious retelling and I can still make myself laugh at the thought of newly arrived me, in a denim trench coat, that really, wasn’t anywhere near warm enough for Melbourne’s winter.

Time has passed, and I have learnt that (A) I don’t like being cold and (B) Tights are the solution to most of your winter weather wear woes. See what I did there?

Processed with Rookie Cam

My partners mum always despairs. She tells me that with my skin colour I should ONLY be wearing colours. I’m sorry Kaye – A Melbournian cannot escape black. It runs in our veins. Even if we are only migrant Melbournians. Today’s attempt to wear more of my un-wearables goes like this:

  1. Black Saba turtleneck: Look, I don’t really have a reason as to why I haven’t worn this much. I really like how it looks in the picture. It probably helps that I have been sticking to my gym routine of recent, and therefore look less lumpy than I used to when my gym sessions involved lifting the wine bottles out of the wine rack and protein = lots and lots of cheese. Don’t worry, I still do both, I just have added lifting heavy weights and punching boxing bags really angrily to the mix. Let’s call this a success. Congratulations black turtleneck, your application to move into permanent residency has been approved.
  2. Richard Nicolls for Sportsgirl houndstooth skirt: I was OBSESSED with this whole collection when it came out. I was saving at the time though and stayed away from the shops. One day, I was browsing through the sales rack at Sportsgirl and saw this on the shelf. It was a size too large but I LOVED it. A navy velvet waistband. Houndstooth. A-line. POCKETS. It had functional POCKETS. If I had my way, everything would have pockets. Real pockets. I brought it home after a slight detour to the tailor, and it promptly made its way into the back of my skirt pile. Welcome back dear.

Processed with Rookie Cam

3. Sigerson Morrison boots – These boots tho. Love them. Too scared to wear them because I don’t want to damage them. Anyone remember the Outnet first birthday sale where everything was one pound? Yeaaaaah. Worn three times since then. That was 2010. Geebus. What is wrong with you woman. They’re just boots. Wear the damn boots. And when they break, fix them or chuck them out. Get over it.

So there you have it. The multicoloured thing in the second picture is the alpaca blanket I am wearing around like a cocoon because its freakin cold. I should get a jacket but we have guests and my jacket wardrobe is in the guest room. No jacket for you Sheri, just coldness. Stop complaining and get a cuppa tea. And think about what unworn horror you’re going to pull from the wardrobe to wear to your dinner catchup tonight. Are you excited readers? I am. I won’t be wearing that denim trench coat (oh how I wish I had kept it, even to pull out as a fossil of times gone by), but who knows, maybe I’ll be revisiting the trend. What’s your best double-denim story?

Advertisements

Day One: Wardrobe confessional

Like many people who suddenly find themselves in their early thirties, my wardrobe is a hodge-podge of things I keep meaning to wear but never do,  everyday heroes and wishful thinking. Hello floor length gown with thigh split and RED and PINK animal print (with a smattering of black). What was I thinking? Angelina Jolie at a safari ball? No. Liar. Angelina Jolie wouldn’t be caught dead in that print. Admit it. You got sucked in by the (A) thigh split; (B) lighting at the store; (C) Insistent sales assistant with really nice makeup who told you that this would be “SAH versatile” or (D) all of the above.

I was pawing through my wardrobe on Friday night again, desolate. Once again, I had nothing to wear. We were just going out to the general admission at the night horse races (so hats – unnecessary; jeans optional), but I could not find one thing that I liked/fit into properly. Most people will tell you that I dress well. I think I generally do. I can pull of a statement necklace and colour-blocking like a wizard. A wizard of colour and chunky jewelry. What most people don’t see is the rotting carcass that is my wardrobe. Carefully concealed in my office behind glossy white wardrobe doors and drawers. One day geologists will dig through the strata of this wardrobe and see the different incarnations; uni kid, club girl, My-First-Brown-Suit, the smattering of witchery and country road.

There are a lot of blogs out there that attempt to Marie-Kondo their wardrobe, or those who do limited wardrobe mix challenges where you give yourself thirty items (and no more) from which to formulate your outfits. I am giving myself a different challenge. Yes, I am going to attempt to purchase no more, but what I am going to do is try and wear everything in my wardrobe at least once, those hidden relics that I pull out of the wardrobe and then promptly stuff back in.

Day one begins like this;

  1. A “nude” coloured cami from Target. This nude is not my nude. As you can see from the image, I am a lovely chocolate – perhaps a creamy milk chocolate bar basking in the sun. I am not beigey-pink.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  2. Similarly “nude” peplum skirt whose peplum I decided I didn’t really want a bar of. Temt. For my views on this shade of nude, see above.
  3. Actually kinda nice dove grey, see-through, lacey blouse. Also with peplum. This one, I am embracing. Also Temt.
  4. Black waist belt. Yeojin Bae for Target. I have owned since 2008. Many moons have passed. I have worn it five times. Sad. I went to four different Target stores to track this down. Cost-per-effort-per-wear pathetic.
  5. Black Zara heels. Probably the only thing in this outfit that I wear on the regular. Mental note; remember Shoes-I-Don’t-Wear for Day two.

So there you have it. The challenge will be to wear this all day at work without removing any component (I am looking at you, Yeojin Bae Belt). Stay tuned for more no-BS outfit construction on day two.

day one
Day One: A Vision in Not-me-nude