I love fashion. I love looking at it; I love talking about it; I love wearing it.
I adore fashion magazines. Sometimes I buy them and then don’t even end up reading them for months. They rise in towering stacks around my apartment, and I sheepishly apologise to visitors for hindering their movements. I’m attracted to their juicy covers and glossy pages of shoes and coats and dresses that are portrayed so deliciously. Perhaps by owning the images, I somehow make them mine.
Buying fashion magazines is a bit like window-shopping at night – a strict ‘look-but-don’t-buy’ attitude is imposed. That’s certainly easier to uphold when the magazines are international editions and the prices inside are stratospheric! It’s like walking down Chapel Street late in the evenings: the boutiques are all lit up like chocolate boxes, and with few other pedestrians I have a clear view of the goodies on display – yet I can’t be tempted to wander in and surrender my credit card.
All this is not to say that my personal style is simply about what is in fashion. My inspiration comes from magazines and scouting stores, as well as checking out what people are wearing on the street. However, much of what I actually purchase is from vintage boutiques or op shops, and I mix it up with new season items or old stayers still in my wardrobe.
The key is to know who you are, sartorially speaking.
I was twenty and attending art school in Prahran when I really began to discover my own fashion identity. That was back when Greville St was chock-full of vintage boutiques; when QBF was Lost Vegas; when Dangerfield opened its doors for the first time, and when Borsch, Vodka and Tears was just the Polish café across the road.
In the, ahem, nearly twenty years since then, my style has evolved and changed more than once. I still like a bit of vintage, but it’s more on the minimal side. Now in real life I like to play with textures and proportion, with a little playful pattern thrown in here and there … polka dots are amusing!
I know when I’ve got it wrong though: I just don’t feel myself, or worse, I’ve already left the house and wince when I catch a stray reflection. That’s when I recall Shakespeare’s adage I adopted years ago, ‘to thine own self be true’. (I don’t think he was referring to personal attire, but it’s applicable.)
On this blog you’ll see some of my old fashion personality: here’s my chance to play dress-ups; record the result and then dismantle the set, because I know that I’d never venture into the street in such fantastic get-ups!
I hope you enjoy it!