Considering that I hardly ever make any references towards my style of clothing nor the means in which I express myself in general through the admirable art of dressing, I'm sure that your blog-obsessed self will be chuffed to bits with reading about my shopping tendencies, along with a couple of reasons for which I'm drawn to clothes aimed at a specific gender (my very own, of course). In fact, fashion was literally all I lived for a mere few years ago when my dream of becoming a Vogue-contributing journalist truly came into itself, which sparked a then-unknown determination to achieve my goals and work towards pursuing the career of the Gods: becoming one of the many employees in the media industry. However, combining my former passion for fashion (how my love of using words which rhyme is almost on the verge of becoming full-on OCD) whilst keeping my dream of writing journalist-style all but became too much to handle as I got older which, over time and a revolutionary wake-up call as I surveyed the price for a Prada handbag, lost its initially fun image and was left in my short-lived, yet memorable past.
Despite chucking away my collection of fashion glossies several months ago - which, after gazing at Scarlett Johansson's impossibly perfect curves (ah, the magic of Photoshop strike yet again), made their way to the local dump several weeks before The Big Move took place last month - it doesn't mean that my love for decent clothing and a thrilling-as-Thriller bargain has been completely left behind like a priceless credit card at a supermarket till. Although my days of ending my sentences with a longing sigh whenever I discussed the dream-like beauty of a Dolce & Gabbana shows (whose clothes I may never afford, if my earlier purchase of a new smartphone has anything to do with my credit rating) have reached an end, I nonetheless keep an eye out for fabulous accessories and anything which would be an added bonus to my wardrobe, drifting in and out of online shopping websites if the feeling should ever take me.
So, you and I have probably had enough of going on about my deceased relationship with high-end fashion which, despite flirting like one would with a teenage crush, never resulted in anything more than despairing at the balance of my pocket money. In many ways, I'm grateful for what my interest in fashion offered me in terms of getting some valuable writing practice and an opportunity to look beyond the realms of everyday life for a while, though I doubt that many would deem a November issue of ELLE to be as riveting as my favourite fantasy/frowning-girl-gets-the-sulking-guy-of-her-dreams film, Twilight.
Whilst designer labels - such as the long established Chanel, Dior and Prada to mention a few - are a wonderful luxury for those who can bear to part with thousand of pounds from their bank accounts and maintain a stylish image which is typically irresistible to recreate, I realized that being in possession of a Louis Vuitton suitcase wasn't necessarily the best thing to have occurred since the creation of bread, like my parents would sometimes say. What excited me the most about fashion as a New Look-clad pre-teen was that all of it seemed like one beautiful fantasy, if the outfits - and indeed the stick-thin, yet highly paid models - were a suggestion of my theory.
But, like all miniature princesses, there comes a time when one must put away her tiara and face the facts about reality: is promoting a good reputation for an industry which often puts one at unease with their appearance and social status what I truly intend to do as a means of making a living, one of which may not be necessarily well paid? Becoming a teenager further provoked me to follow this line of thought because matters such as insecurity with one's looks and disappointment at being unable to splash out on a once-in-a-lifetime designer dress brought the true meaning of fashion home to me, bringing on what I proudly call an 'epiphany' which proved for once and for all that nobody should be excluded from participating in the extravaganza otherwise known as fashion.
By saying 'nobody', I'm referring to those who would usually be the unfortunate recipient of a glare so deadly that even the Grim Reaper himself couldn't conjure if they dared to step foot in a shop or boutique aimed at people who give no further thought to having more money than common sense. And these 'nobodies' are the people to whom I can most relate, of whose social status I accept as my own, and live life one day at home - and isn't that the case for most of us in this country?
As shops aimed at ordinary, penny-watching people like myself have grown in popularity and taken the fashion world by storm, more and more of the general public have received a sort of pass to engaging in clothes-related affairs without being ripped off, nor missing out on the most coveted trends. Sure, we might not necessarily brag about the Marni or whoever-inspired dress we picked up at one of the so-called 'lower-end' stores because, on a whole, it will take some time until the bargain-hunting stigma is fully diminished like Buffy Summers slaying a sharp-toothed vampire, but the days of wishing to walk into Harrods and buy the outfit of our dreams are no longer as painful as they used to be as we are now able to pick up a similar, yet cheaper replica in an ordinary shop. So, there are no obstacles standing in your way of achieving maximum stylishness, whilst keeping an eye on your pennies couldn't be easier!
Of course, I recognize that, during times of hardship and struggles within life itself, going on a manic shopping spree might not automatically spring to mind as one of the world's most important matters but, as a girl who is eager to preserve her femininity and use it as an expression of power and intelligence, clothes never fail to give a purpose to everything I do. In certain ways, I regard clothes as a confidence boost which hardly ever runs out of fuel and I'm at my highest function if a new t-shirt or skirt is waiting to be worn; in my opinion, that is happiness at its best! And, since banishing my old designer-mad woes to one side, I've never found it easier to appreciate clothes in its true form without giving a second thought to its value or brand.
In order to clarify my theory to you, imagine this: if your eyes were blindfolded as you sat down to eat a meal, what would you care about? Apart from smell and touch, you would mainly rely upon taste to confirm whether you liked what was lying on your plate, without being able to see it. If you liked what was placed in your mouth, would its appearance matter in the slightest to you? In other words, don't judge a book by its cover, but I believe that this phrase should be extended by the 'status' of a certain brand or its targeted audience because reputation isn't always accurate, nor should it result in snobbery and higher-than-the-Eiffel-Tower noses.
When I used to read the fashion glossies - a.k.a. high-end fashion magazines with a glossy cover (as if conditioner was a main ingredient) - I always got the impression that the more expensive designer labels received the preferred treatment, whilst the high street brands rarely got a look in and were often assigned to a page or two from time to time. This practice eventually got on my nerves so much that I could no longer put up with this prejudice, which led to my decision to give up these fashion magazines altogether; albeit an occasional desire to read something other than politicians' scandals in The Daily Mail, I don't miss reading these magazines at all. And, by saving the money which I used to solely spend on these pricey magazines, my shopping budget has significantly increased, so I couldn't be happier about making such a moral-respecting choice which hasn't made a single dent in my search for seeking the best-looking clothes available.
Although my days of trend-spotting are all now over, my mission to promote the best morals whilst maintaining my femininity through dressing nicely is on its path towards becoming a success, one of which I aspire to keep in check throughout my life. Who knows, I may one day have the heart to hand over eye-watering amounts of cash in exchange for a designer handbag - after all this time, I still want to get my hands upon a timeless Louis Vuitton tote bag! Perhaps a trip to the foreign flea markets could be a good idea...
Before I put my fashion-themed rant to rest, I almost left you in the dark as to my clothing style, didn't I? Exactly like a bag of rainbow-coloured Skittles, you never quite know what to expect until you catch a glimpse of my fully-dressed form, though in general my style would be classified as feminine, classic and outrageously smart. In recent months, I've found myself falling head over heels for the colour red and lace dresses which, when combined, are in the same stakes as the popular designer labels. Yet, despite having a noticeable penchant for clothes, my passions mainly lie within the accessories section in a shop, so I'm far more likely to dance with feverous delight if a pair of gold (usually the ones which turn my ears a horrible shade of a bluey black) earrings or spacious handbag catches my eye than an attention-grabbing logo t-shirt. And, in order to give you a heads-up in case such a rare-as-undercooked-steak occasion should ever arise, here's one word of warning: just don't mention the colour 'pink' or you may very well make a new steely-eyed enemy!
Regardless of my age, I think that I will always be drawn to the extravagant styles and articles which have taken the world by storm because, as it ought to be known, fashion is an art in itself, being a vital source of inspiration and, if you take immense pleasure in seeing six feet-tall models stumbling over in seven inch or so high heels on the catwalk, entertainment. If anything else, the fashion industry has provided hundreds of thousands of jobs for people and is counted as one of the largest industries in the United Kingdom alone, so I cannot prevent myself from praising those who have given artistic and hard-working people a chance to excel within their abilities. However, certain stigmas - such as a noticeable lack of coloured models on the catwalks, workers in third world countries being paid peanuts for hours of exhausting work and indeed a snobbery against so-called 'lower-end' shops - will continue to exist for a period of time until, as a nation, we move on and embrace the world as it is, giving no second thought to the bargain hunters looking for a cheap, yet great outfit.
When I began to drift away from my fashion-themed dreams several years ago, it occurred to me that all the good people - a large majority of the population - are worthy of living in a world where equality should be a way of life, no longer an idyllic fantasy which stood no chance of becoming a reality. There are so many aspects in this life where we are treated wrongfully for countless reasons and I live in hope that, during my lifetime, these inequalities will cease to exist and the people of Earth are able to reside in harmony, the thought of which brings tears of joy to my eyes. But, by pointing out that anybody is entitled to shopping wherever they like and can join the huge fashion phenomenon, I like to believe that we are embarking on the first, yet extremely vital steps towards equality in all walks of life. At least it's a start.
Whilst designer labels - such as the long established Chanel, Dior and Prada to mention a few - are a wonderful luxury for those who can bear to part with thousand of pounds from their bank accounts and maintain a stylish image which is typically irresistible to recreate, I realized that being in possession of a Louis Vuitton suitcase wasn't necessarily the best thing to have occurred since the creation of bread, like my parents would sometimes say. What excited me the most about fashion as a New Look-clad pre-teen was that all of it seemed like one beautiful fantasy, if the outfits - and indeed the stick-thin, yet highly paid models - were a suggestion of my theory.
But, like all miniature princesses, there comes a time when one must put away her tiara and face the facts about reality: is promoting a good reputation for an industry which often puts one at unease with their appearance and social status what I truly intend to do as a means of making a living, one of which may not be necessarily well paid? Becoming a teenager further provoked me to follow this line of thought because matters such as insecurity with one's looks and disappointment at being unable to splash out on a once-in-a-lifetime designer dress brought the true meaning of fashion home to me, bringing on what I proudly call an 'epiphany' which proved for once and for all that nobody should be excluded from participating in the extravaganza otherwise known as fashion.
By saying 'nobody', I'm referring to those who would usually be the unfortunate recipient of a glare so deadly that even the Grim Reaper himself couldn't conjure if they dared to step foot in a shop or boutique aimed at people who give no further thought to having more money than common sense. And these 'nobodies' are the people to whom I can most relate, of whose social status I accept as my own, and live life one day at home - and isn't that the case for most of us in this country?
As shops aimed at ordinary, penny-watching people like myself have grown in popularity and taken the fashion world by storm, more and more of the general public have received a sort of pass to engaging in clothes-related affairs without being ripped off, nor missing out on the most coveted trends. Sure, we might not necessarily brag about the Marni or whoever-inspired dress we picked up at one of the so-called 'lower-end' stores because, on a whole, it will take some time until the bargain-hunting stigma is fully diminished like Buffy Summers slaying a sharp-toothed vampire, but the days of wishing to walk into Harrods and buy the outfit of our dreams are no longer as painful as they used to be as we are now able to pick up a similar, yet cheaper replica in an ordinary shop. So, there are no obstacles standing in your way of achieving maximum stylishness, whilst keeping an eye on your pennies couldn't be easier!
Of course, I recognize that, during times of hardship and struggles within life itself, going on a manic shopping spree might not automatically spring to mind as one of the world's most important matters but, as a girl who is eager to preserve her femininity and use it as an expression of power and intelligence, clothes never fail to give a purpose to everything I do. In certain ways, I regard clothes as a confidence boost which hardly ever runs out of fuel and I'm at my highest function if a new t-shirt or skirt is waiting to be worn; in my opinion, that is happiness at its best! And, since banishing my old designer-mad woes to one side, I've never found it easier to appreciate clothes in its true form without giving a second thought to its value or brand.
In order to clarify my theory to you, imagine this: if your eyes were blindfolded as you sat down to eat a meal, what would you care about? Apart from smell and touch, you would mainly rely upon taste to confirm whether you liked what was lying on your plate, without being able to see it. If you liked what was placed in your mouth, would its appearance matter in the slightest to you? In other words, don't judge a book by its cover, but I believe that this phrase should be extended by the 'status' of a certain brand or its targeted audience because reputation isn't always accurate, nor should it result in snobbery and higher-than-the-Eiffel-Tower noses.
When I used to read the fashion glossies - a.k.a. high-end fashion magazines with a glossy cover (as if conditioner was a main ingredient) - I always got the impression that the more expensive designer labels received the preferred treatment, whilst the high street brands rarely got a look in and were often assigned to a page or two from time to time. This practice eventually got on my nerves so much that I could no longer put up with this prejudice, which led to my decision to give up these fashion magazines altogether; albeit an occasional desire to read something other than politicians' scandals in The Daily Mail, I don't miss reading these magazines at all. And, by saving the money which I used to solely spend on these pricey magazines, my shopping budget has significantly increased, so I couldn't be happier about making such a moral-respecting choice which hasn't made a single dent in my search for seeking the best-looking clothes available.
Although my days of trend-spotting are all now over, my mission to promote the best morals whilst maintaining my femininity through dressing nicely is on its path towards becoming a success, one of which I aspire to keep in check throughout my life. Who knows, I may one day have the heart to hand over eye-watering amounts of cash in exchange for a designer handbag - after all this time, I still want to get my hands upon a timeless Louis Vuitton tote bag! Perhaps a trip to the foreign flea markets could be a good idea...
Before I put my fashion-themed rant to rest, I almost left you in the dark as to my clothing style, didn't I? Exactly like a bag of rainbow-coloured Skittles, you never quite know what to expect until you catch a glimpse of my fully-dressed form, though in general my style would be classified as feminine, classic and outrageously smart. In recent months, I've found myself falling head over heels for the colour red and lace dresses which, when combined, are in the same stakes as the popular designer labels. Yet, despite having a noticeable penchant for clothes, my passions mainly lie within the accessories section in a shop, so I'm far more likely to dance with feverous delight if a pair of gold (usually the ones which turn my ears a horrible shade of a bluey black) earrings or spacious handbag catches my eye than an attention-grabbing logo t-shirt. And, in order to give you a heads-up in case such a rare-as-undercooked-steak occasion should ever arise, here's one word of warning: just don't mention the colour 'pink' or you may very well make a new steely-eyed enemy!
Regardless of my age, I think that I will always be drawn to the extravagant styles and articles which have taken the world by storm because, as it ought to be known, fashion is an art in itself, being a vital source of inspiration and, if you take immense pleasure in seeing six feet-tall models stumbling over in seven inch or so high heels on the catwalk, entertainment. If anything else, the fashion industry has provided hundreds of thousands of jobs for people and is counted as one of the largest industries in the United Kingdom alone, so I cannot prevent myself from praising those who have given artistic and hard-working people a chance to excel within their abilities. However, certain stigmas - such as a noticeable lack of coloured models on the catwalks, workers in third world countries being paid peanuts for hours of exhausting work and indeed a snobbery against so-called 'lower-end' shops - will continue to exist for a period of time until, as a nation, we move on and embrace the world as it is, giving no second thought to the bargain hunters looking for a cheap, yet great outfit.
When I began to drift away from my fashion-themed dreams several years ago, it occurred to me that all the good people - a large majority of the population - are worthy of living in a world where equality should be a way of life, no longer an idyllic fantasy which stood no chance of becoming a reality. There are so many aspects in this life where we are treated wrongfully for countless reasons and I live in hope that, during my lifetime, these inequalities will cease to exist and the people of Earth are able to reside in harmony, the thought of which brings tears of joy to my eyes. But, by pointing out that anybody is entitled to shopping wherever they like and can join the huge fashion phenomenon, I like to believe that we are embarking on the first, yet extremely vital steps towards equality in all walks of life. At least it's a start.
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