The dangerous power of a pant suit

Shirt, ASOS (sale)

Trousers, Topshop

Blazer, Primark (old)

Shoes, H&M (old)

Necklace, vintage

Lips, Revlon Just Bitten Kissable Balm Stain in 'Smitten'

 It’s been a long while and I am suitably apologetic and ashamed. Everything has been crazy but I’m back, babbling once more into the abyss of the internet. I hope you’re all doing excellently, lil spring chickens!

In the time I’ve spent away from the blog I’ve reached a major milestone in my life (humour me here)– I have found the black trousers of my increasingly-fevered-as-Scottish-medieval-literature-essays-pile-up dreams. These bebes are high of waist, insanely voluminous of thigh and narrow of ankle, and tick every box: they're a versatile classic, but still weird enough to resist any school uniform connotations.

 

I’ve been living in mismatched pantsuits of late, and not solely because I haven’t done any washing and am repeatedly forced to choose either a ludicrous outfit combo or nudity (but seriously, that is 94% the reason). This here is one of my favourites – drapey shapes, crazy patterns, EVERY COLOUR. I feel powerful and insane, which in most spheres would be a very dangerous combo but in fashion is a-ok! Also, I will admit to a little switcheroo on the shoe front when I wore this outfit out, but only because apparently Geordies loathe kitten heels and I’m deathly afraid of yet more Metro heckling. I’m sorry, dear lil turquoise kittens; one day, I’ll shout our love to the world. ONE DAY.

Fancy boots/turkey forever

Merry Boxing Day, fellas! I’ve spent the day lurching from sofa to sofa, woozy and confused, a turkey based food item in my hand or mouth at all times. Turkey has defeated me. Turkey has slithered from my mouth directly into my brain. I see only turkey; I hear only turkey; turkey is my lord and my master and for the rest of my earthly days I shall serve* only turkey. I’m going to talk about clothes and shoes and things now, but know that though I type ‘shoes’, I’m thinking ‘turkey’.

So yes, shoes! Namely, these block heeled beauties kindly gifted to me by Oasap, which I have been foolishly wearing to turkey-lurch around the house because they are too gorgeous to remove for such flimsy reasons as ‘breaking my ankle’ or ‘careening down two flights of stairs on my face’. Aren’t they fancy?  

Boots, c/o Oasap

Trousers, Primark

And though it’s disgracefully materialistic coming so close after Christmas, I have also been compiling wish lists of things I want but cannot – thanks to a student budget and a desperate attempt to establish self-control – have. I want a lot of impossible things: Ryan Gosling, for instance, or clear skin, or a trip to New York City. Ideally I’d like to stroll down the street in NYC only to stumble into Ryan Gosling and have him compliment me on my flawless complexion. I would also like all of these playsuits:

All Topshop

…and I will take these sparkly things if you are offering:

Crop top, Asos

Earrings, Topshop

Long-sleeved top, Asos

I want these to be in my life. I want the same of the aforementioned Gosling:

 All Topshop

Ahh. It was good to take momentary respite from turkey by indulging my greedy greedy soul. Now I must return to turkey.

*Turkey has not yet commandeered my punning abilities.

Dressing above my station

 Jumper, H&M (via eBay)

Skirt, Asos (also via eBay)

Shoes, Asos

Scarf, vintage

I promise next time I take photos I will brush my hair.

These photographs were taken by the wonderful Dina of She Loves Mixtapes, who graciously put up with my total inability to pose and also navigated a very stressful vintage sale and cooed at squirrels with me. Also you are probably already aware of this but she is an excellent human being. Top marks to you, Dina!

I’m accidentally dressed a little bit like the lady of the manor (any manor, pick a manor) here, what with my full midi skirt, angora jumper and lil silk scarf. Which is fun, because during the three times I’ve worn this skirt so far I’ve been anything but ladylike. Let me break it down for ya. Situations this skirt would be suitable for:

1.       Falling from a plane, during which air would billow underneath its voluminous folds of fabric and infinitesimally slow the fatal plummet to earth

2.       A freak rainstorm at a beach wedding; the entire deluged wedding party could shelter below until the tempest passed

3.       Perching atop a giant toilet roll as a lifesize decorative loo roll lady.

Situations this skirt is definitely not suitable for:

1.       Waiting at a tube station in a dense crowd of besuited city folk as the tube sweeps in, ushering before it a swift breeze to blow said skirt up about one’s face

2.       An eventful Saturday night doing a month’s worth of laundry, during which the offending skirt will get trapped in the door of three separate washing machines

3.       Navigating a crowded Tesco with an overfilled basket, which will handily hook onto one’s skirt and cause one to inadvertently flash everyone present as one lifts the basket to the till.

Oh elegance, you infuriatingly elusive beast! 

Green snakeskin. Because once you've said 'green snakeskin' there's not much more to say.

You may select one from this list of reasons why I haven’t posted in so long:

1.       Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Rashida Jones took a spontaneous trip to the Toon. I got chatting to them on the Metro and we became instant best friends and have spent the past month writing a sitcom that is already, even before filming, being hailed as ‘the reason television was invented’.

2.       Waking up one morning and realising the terrible brevity of life, I resolved not to waste a single minute more and set off on a circumnavigation the globe in a canoe I fashioned myself from my shoes, furniture and all other physical reflections of my sick, materialistic soul.

3.       I, um, tidied away my camera and lost it. Plus it’s been quite rainy. Plus I’ve been trying to read the Faerie Queene. Um. Yeah.

T-shirt, eBay

Skirt, Topshop

Belt, Topshop

Shoes, Internacionale

Here is a terrifyingly close up image of my face for your uncomfortable viewing pleasure. Every other picture was incredibly awkward or my skirt was over my face (thanks to wind, not whimsy) or the light was all weird. So yes. My face.

I like that this skirt is such a big mess of contradictions. The ‘feminine’, conservative, 50s shape collides head on with the most gloriously 80s, trashy print I have ever encountered – motherfudgin’ green snake print, for those days when giant python print just is. not. enough. Now, I’m about to say something sickeningly earnest, and because I have warned you in advance you are NOT ALLOWED TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE, OK? I think – deep breath – this skirt is a neat little metonym* for my style as a whole. A chaotic conglomeration (yeah I just alliterated WHAT OF IT) of eras and influences churned into something a bit gaudy and frantic and fun. I worry sometimes that the ‘style’ of my outfits is so inconsistent that my blog makes no sense as a whole, but being so chronically indecisive that even flipping through the tv channels stresses me the hell out (this was never a problem until you stopped showing Gilmore Girls, E4. I hope you’re bloody happy), I was never going to be able to make a definitive choice when it came to clothes.

So, in a thinly veiled effort to legitimise my indecisiveness as sartorial choice homage to the wonderful weirdness of this skirt, I went all out on the contradiction front and played out the two extremes. In the prim and proper, Donna Reed/bobby soxer corner: pearls, pointed courts and cutesy socks. And reppin’ the 80s, a Felt tshirt; I realise Felt had nothing to do with the snake print side of the 80s but I like to consider that a contradiction within a contradiction. An Inceptiondiction, if you will (yes, it has taken me two years to make an Inception joke, and yes, that is probably why my standup comedy career imploded, and I would appreciate it if you would stop bringing it up, me). And now I’m going to shuffle away and do some serious thinking about whatever’s so terribly wrong with my brain that caused this blog post to dribble out of it.

*I spent so long agonising over whether it was a metonym or a synecdoche and then I concluded that I am a massive dickhead.

P.S. Some really great ladies mentioned me on their blogs/blog rolls, for which I am ever so thankful! I am sending uncomfortable, slightly too long hugs to Marlen (whose fancy button you can take a gander at over on the sidebar), Robyn, Stephanie, Chelsea, Belphoebe and Issa. You gals are the best.

Glamorous and polka dots and Liz Lemon

Shirt, c/o Glamorous

Skirt, vintage

Belt, Primark

Shoes, Internacionale (£15!)

So we all know I really love polka dots, right? What do you mean, you don’t Google all permutations on ‘Emily Dixon’ and ‘Emily Wears Things’ on a thrice weekly basis in order to dredge up every footprint of my internet presence? Don’t I mean anything to you? Whatevs, my point is I REALLY LOVE POLKA DOTS, OK?! And this skirt is an old, old favourite, bought in Year 11 and worn in so many bad outfit combinations since that its enduring loyalty is making me suspect that it’s developed Stockholm syndrome. Or, you know, that I should stop imagining my clothes are sentient beings.

This excellent shirt was a gift from Glamorous UK, and is one of the coolest things I’ve ever owned. Polka dotted, Peter Pan collared and perfectly cutesy, until you notice the collarbone cutout and you’re all “HOLD UP, HARLOT, PUT THAT SEGMENT OF FLESH AWAY”. If you’re a resident of 17^th century Salem, that is, in which case you’d probably have several other minor issues with the shirt such as ‘it’s in a fabric that hasn’t been invented yet’. Since I REALLY LOVE POLKA DOTS, OK?! I simply had to go all out and whack on my darling little hostage of a skirt and some pointed 50s-esque heels and flounce around like I had something more exciting to do today than resolve to plough through The Faerie Queene then approximately three minutes later give up and watch more 30 Rock (there ain't no party like a Liz Lemon party). But seriously, fellas, I’m about to finish the boxset for the second time; I really need a job.

Prancin' around in the garden

Fellas, I have a jazzy new camera! It's fancy! And I still know nothing about photography so please bear with me!

 Crop top, Asos

Cape style thingy, present from B-Town

Skirt, c/o Vintage Style Me

Shoes, Office

Choker, eBay

Silver necklace, UO

Gold necklace, H&M

Lipstick, Revlon Black Cherry

This is a photo of Fudgington despising me.

The lovely Rhiannon who runs Vintage Style Me sent me this glorious skirt*, and I’m fully obsessed with it. The fabric is silky and gorgeous, the colours are insane and it swishes when I walk which is very high in my skirt selection criteria. Pleated midi skirts could potentially be my absolute favourite skirt shape. BOLD STATEMENT THERE GUYS; ARE YOU WRITING THIS DOWN? Anyway, I adore it and it fills me with glee and I’m ever so grateful to Rhiannon, and I strongly recommend you have a looksee at her lovely shop. Excellent clothes, excellent prices (I know what you’re thinking: with such original material I should really go into advertising); I’d recommend this 90s shirt dress, this lacy waistcoat and this marvellous jumpsuit.

My cape style thang was a birthday gift from Bridie of Harry Potter necklace fame, and in case you aren’t already aware Bridie is the best. I’m wafting all over the shop in this, pretending to be Stevie Nicks and all round living the dream. So gothic and romantic and gauzy! There is a small chance that she bought it knowing that my chubby kitties would be driven delirious by the tassels and when leaping giddily to grab them would sink their claws into my delicate flesh, but I am choosing to ignore that chance because, though I don’t doubt her genius, I don’t think I’ve pushed her over the edge just yet. If I discover her sprinkling catnip into my shampoo I will probably reconsider that conclusion.

Wow, things got weird back there. Let’s put it behind us and talk about CROP TOP IN THE HOOOUUUSE (/back garden, whatevs). I wore one outside! And it is definitely not relevant that I spent most of the day with my arms folded tightly across my midriff, prompting several people to ask me if I was in pain and one unsolicited but well meaning comment along the lines of “Effin’ periods, eh?” And now I promise I will stop praising myself for doing completely inconsequential things like wearing a particular item of clothing, although I should warn you that if I ever manage shorts without tights I’m buying myself a yacht.

*I’ve added a little page about accepting freebies and whatnot, but the general gist is that I had a long think about whether I was cool with it, particularly since my blog is very new, and concluded that I was providing that I only accept things that I love, would buy myself and are relevant to my blog and you delightful readers. I very much hope that’s cool with you fellas, because YOU ARE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS.

Tartan and lunging at guitarists

T-shirt, Real Estate show

Skirt, vintage (I think)

Belt, Topshop

Bag, Urban Outfitters

Boots, Waiviki

Necklaces, eBay/bag handle

Above is me showcasing yet more tartan in the form of my old faithful satchel and actual child’s skirt, which is as a result almost obscenely short and thus necessitates approximately seventy pairs of tights to preserve one’s (limited) modesty. In order to avoid actual school uniform territory and thus so much creepy, I made a not at all dramatic and in fact thoroughly mundane dramatic last minute change from brogues into my beloved Waiviki boots which I potentially adore more than life itself. So perfectly clompy! So 90s! And so comfortable that when I'm wearing them I forget I'm wearing heels and think I'm tall before bitter reality comes thundering back down upon me! The Real Estate tshirt, meanwhile, is from an excellent night several months ago (the long hair days!) of seeing them live with ma galpal Neeliya, during which I breached some serious social boundaries in physically lunging at the dreamy Matt Mondanile in order to secure the below picture. WORTH. IT.

P.S. Thanks ever so much for the lovely comments on my previous post; you’re all excellent human beings and I like you all immensely.