As I write I am sitting in the hairdressers’ for the second time in a month, desperately trying to get the stubborn green out of my hair, listening to the gossip from my tiny provincial village. My hairdressing salon is called BJs, by the way. They have no idea how funny the name is. (more…)
The Victoria’s Secret fashion show is a ‘throwback’ of sorts to couture extravaganza; the sets and the costumes worn by the models are opulent, to say the least. The creative directors slave over the process for the entire year preceding the show. Their labour includes picking section themes for the show and, of course, designing the costumes (most of these are hand crafted). The angels’ wings take months to engineer, and their intricate detail is baffling. The fantasy bras, of which there were two this year, cost $2 million each and took 1,380 hours to make. They even come with their own bodyguards.
As a little girl, I’d look for any excuse to wear my trendy denim vest to school in the dead of winter. My mum would stop me at the door and tell me to bundle up – not only for my health but also to look smart. I scoffed at this logic back then, claiming that fashion was about risk-taking. But in the case of dressing for the cold, I’ve come to realise that practicality matters just as much as originality. The idea that you should sacrifice your comfort for the sake of fashion is ludicrous, especially when these trade-offs aren’t even necessary. It’s easy to dress smart and look sharp with the right items in your closet.
Taylor Swift. The name may ring a few bells. She is the best-selling artist since Eminem, the proud owner of five solo albums before the age of twenty five and currently the most renowned female singer/songwriter in the world. It would be fair to say that Taylor is at the top of her musical game. Yet moving swiftly on (Ahem. This will the last ‘Swift’ pun. Promise.) from her music, the release of her latest music video, ‘Blank Space’, which hit YouTube just last week and has already garnered over forty million hits, was almost as much about her newly-evolved style as it was about the witty parodying of her critics.
If there is one important lesson to be learned from Don’t Tell The Bride (OK, who are we kidding, there are many), it is this: it is all about the dress. On countless occasions, brides have screamed, cried and even questioned the marriage itself at the first sight of satin or glimpse of gossamer. Sure, there have been some truly horrific offerings, boldly chosen by sheepish-looking fiancées desperate to please. There have been fishtails, cutouts, high-low hemlines and all manner of sartorial sins committed on the way to the altar. But the fact of the matter is, you just don’t come between a bride and her dress.
We’ve all been there. You see someone on the street, in a shop or on a casual afternoon Facebook stalk. You like their outfit. They’re rocking that difficult shade of orange – a tone somewhere between rust and radioactive tangerine. They’ve done their hair exactly how you’ve been trying to do yours for years. And – critically – they’ve somehow managed to master the art of casually draping a blazer over their shoulders while presumably still being able to perform basic daily functions like Instagramming.