is this fate?........

Shirt: Vintage Yves Saint Laurent / Leather Skirt: Vintage / Shoes: Converse

I have this weird notion of fate when it comes to my sartorial choices.

Weird because I'm loathe to leave anything else in my life up to the whims of something so elusive, so devoid of concrete evidence of it's existence. Something that contradicts every logical thought that runs through my mind. Fate. What the hell is fate?   

But, like I can't help but feel strongly about tweed, I can't help but feel strongly about fate. Of the sartorial kind that is.

Because of this strength of feeling, I've been known to leave something behind, as a way of testing the very fate I believe so wholeheartedly in. I did it last week.

I fell upon a denim shirt. A men's one, (of course), with a yoke and collar of a tan suede. Sigh. And on sale. And I walked away. In hindsight, total dick move. But my supposition that if I'm supposed to have it I'll have it, gives me this kind of bravado.

Yes, I can walk away from perhaps the most important denim shirt of my life, (is that even a thing, can you have an important denim shirt, rhetorical question because the answer is yes), and know that if it's supposed to join the growing pile of shirts already in my life, it will.

It wasn't. I went back and it was gone.

At this point, without my ridiculous belief that fate rules my wardrobe, I'd be curled up in a corner somewhere sobbing.

I mean, suede yoke people, suede!

But I'm not. Because, you know, fate.

Luckily fate was on my side when I scored this (Y)SL shirt and vintage leather mini. They were, obviously, meant to be. 

xx

higher and higher baby.......

Shirt: Cotton On (Mens) / Jeans: Vintage Lee / Shoes: Wittner / Sunglasses: ASOS

I've never been a huge fan of high waisted anything. Putting emphasis on my ass and the lower half of my abdomen (which rises and falls throughout the course of the day in opposition to the sun, am I right ladies?) just never melded with my preconceived ideas of radness.

But like all great and wonderful things, it only takes one.

While on a thrifting adventure in search of old school mens denim to customise the hell out of I happened to stumble upon these high waisted Lee jeans, circa no idea, and now I'm hooked.

If I told you that I'd been wearing them basically every day for the past week, would you believe me? Surely those crease marks can attest to my infatuation? Thank god the internet is not equipped with a sense of smell just yet.

Coincidentally the two other pairs of denim I scored that fateful day are also high waisted.

So now the questions is, does this mark the end of my slung at the hip denim phase? Am I all about the Mum jeans, ass emphasis and FUPA?

Perhaps all that Man Repeller reading has finally sunk in.

Hell if I know. But if you find any vintage high waisted Lee denim, preferably from man land, can you please let me know. Seriously. Not kidding.

xx

going hawaiian.......

Ok, real talk. I'm having a moment with hawaiian shirts right now. In my mind, every single look I conjure could be made infinitely better with the inclusion of a brightly coloured shirt. A shirt featuring, among other things, palm trees and blue skies and flowers; lots and lots of flowers.

This streetstyle shot of Yasmin Sewell, while fabulous, only serves to legitmise my current infatuation. Though in the interests of complete transparency, I must admit this shot is from a few seasons ago. Using fashion insiders to prop up our seemingly nonsensical sartorial desires is nothing new. But trawling through the archives to find some hawaiian evidence to solidify my argument borders on ridiculous surely?

Because here's the thing, my growing love of the flamboyant shirts came before the inspirational streetstyle shot. This one brewed in my grey matter and filtered from the top down, until I found myself searching for 'hawaiian shirt' in eBay, ASOS, Topshop, Google and every other search engine I could find.

Which got me wondering. With our sartorial choices seemingly so influenced by the magazines we read, the blogs we follow and the racks of garments in those fast fashion stores we all frequent, is there any room left in our overflowing minds to dream up something different? 

And when you do actually get that dream happening, how do you translate that to a look, especially when your dream just ain't on trend?

I, of course, resorted to the fertile grounds of both eBay and op shops to create this mix of print and denim. Sometimes you just can't leave your fate to the fashion gods of New York, London, Paris and Milan. Sometimes you have to take control of that shit yourself. 

Because fash-un isn't found only inside the minimalist glass doors of Zara or the online powerhouses of Net-A-Porter. It's found in my vintage hawaiian shirt (score) and my vintage customised Levi's (double score) and, you know, it's found in the sky and stuff like Coco said.

xx