Part 1 of a 3-Part Style Overhaul Series, including:
Now, be honest. When was the last time you overhauled your wardrobe / cupboards / the crumpled heap shoved behind your bedroom door? 6 month? A year? 5 Years? 25 years (if this is you, then we need to talk measurements and your willingness for me to riffle through your things). I recent stumbled on an invite for a Shake Up Your Style workshop hosted by Lifestyle Lab and - while I'm not one for white denim jackets or shorts of any and all descriptions - I did find myself reluctantly inspired to finally attack The Overstuffed Hell Hole aka my wardrobe (theoretically "shared" with Lisa: she's been generously allotted 7 hangers and one entire shelf). With a spring in my step and an irritating-pop-song-on-endless-loop in my heart, I decided to delve into its murky depths...
On balance, my bum has been pretty good to me. Sure, we've had our moments... like, anytime I have attempted to:
The jury's in, you crazy kids LOVE a Vintage Style Challenge as much as I do. This isn't just another one of those run-of-the-mill 'match made in heaven' scenarios. Nuh-ah. This is the kind of match that's been dipped in awesome, covered in chocolate buttons and vomited on by unicorns wearing replicas of Audrey Hepburn's 1954 Oscars gown. While I hadn't expected to take on another style challenge so soon, when my plan for a ladies morning tea at my all time favourite vintage store (located a mere 300 miles from home) in Nottingham exploded with the news of a Judy's Vintage Fair (nay, that's Judy's AFFORDABLE Vintage Fair, to be precise) on the very same day... it would have been rude not to take up Challenge #2. Team, you know the rules: 3 hours. £30. Wildly unnecessary pauses for carb-loaded snacks. Gratuitous photographs of my watch. GO!
We needn’t mentioned here that I’m a sucker for pin-up style. Let’s face it, there are certain hip-to-waist ratios that prevent one from wearing anything but full-circled skirts... or a muumuu. This is not something I am unhappy about. When you’re as irritatingly theatrical as I am, skipping through your day as if an extra in a Lucille Ball film is hardly a chore. A need, equivalent to that of breathing, to belt everything placed on my body is a blissful reality.
I like clothes. While it’s not with the passionate zeal I once did (remember back when NOTHING else mattered more than what you were wearing to your friend’s house party that weekend? Okay, you and I both know I was far too nerdy to go to house parties - after all, my favourite outfit was a Tokyo Ghetto Pussy t-shirt paired with a Pokémon backpack... but I think you get the sentiment). I’m delighted that my little sojourn into the sewing world is reigniting that little fashion fire within me.
I recently knocked up this little beauty as my first ever foray into the world of commercial patterns. Not bad, eh?? I was shocked beyond belief that what emerged from the nightmare of fabric scraps and tangled cotton sprawled across the floorboards of several rooms (sorry babe) was a real, wearable piece of clothing that mildly resembled a garment one might actually pay for.
In my early teenage years I was crazy for vintage shopping. Only it had a much more glamorous name then: "scrounging for hours at op-shops*, markets and garage sales* for second-hand frocks, shoes and skirts that weren't damaged nor resembled the attire of an unfortunate 80s bridesmaid". By the mid-00s, however, vintage shopping in Australia had basically gone to the dogs. Let me explain:
In case the heading off this website didn't make it excruciatingly obvious: I have a big bum. The thing about big bums is they tend to be bolstered by big thighs, which are in turn bolstered by big calves and so on and so forth. Unless of course you are like my friend Laureen and your hypnotic, full booty is balanced upon equally delicious long legs. But we're not talking about her.
A big dollop of love from my finger tips to your screen (I promise that's not as creepy as it sounds). xx