(Gwyneth Paltrow's style in Sliding Doors? Yes)
Hailey Bieber's stylist @MaeveReilly doing the most
I aim to get out of the house once a day for general sanity, breathing space and to make the most of the fact we still can. I have a fear of jogging (don’t ask) so I use my slice of government allotted recreation time to stretch my legs on the deserted streets of central London. Today I ventured out alone, two metres from the world, in what felt like the actual start of British Summertime, dressed in cream jeans, white Air Force 1s, a cream ribbed turtle neck and a cream cardigan - a lot of cream going on. It was 22°C outside and as I got to walking, I got to thinking, this outfit, though good, is not good enough - and I hate all my clothes.
(This thought occurs to me at least once a day as I trawl through Instagram, mind-numbingly scroll Pinterest and persistently Google 'white side ruched top' 'satin skirt' 'mules' and 'white ribbed tank top' only to stare at the checkout page for hours before getting up and making a cup of tea. I don't help myself).
The more I continued with my afternoon the more I started to realise how much I disliked my wardrobe back at the flat. Construction-wise it's exactly how I want it to be, the coat hangers all match and I have that IKEA storage system that hangs from the rail. Excellent. The clothes that occupy my closet, however, are a different story, a whole 500 page novel on the struggle between dressing like a tomboy and wanting to look fabulously chic, a conflict that has stalked me since I was 18.
I’m not saying all the items I own are bad, they really aren’t, but they could be so much better. One half of my wardrobe is a collection of oversized black and white men’s t-shirts from Uniqlo, (which I love, that’s not a slam) baggy jeans and big comfy sweatshirts. The who I want to be half of things contains open back tops, suit trousers, and an excessive amount of knitwear from & Other Stories. You get the picture. You get the clash.
I suppose what I was asking myself on my walk, as I dodged the sunlight desperately looking for shade without stopping, is can the two me’s coexist someway? Can they find a way to blend happily? Support one another and grow harmoniously?
Turning onto the home stretch, I reached a conclusion: the answer is no. When this lockdown has been lifted I’ll have worn enough sweatpants, oversized t-shirts and jogging bottoms to last me a lifetime. My wardrobe is safe, it's easy, it's comfortable. I always tell myself that I could get dressed in the dark if I wanted to. But I don't want to, what use is that skill? And how many times have I ever needed to ever get dressed in the dark anyway? My clothes don't make me feel special, they don't make me feel anything, and with a stack of Vogue's piling up over the years, it's about time that I love what I wear just as much as I love fashion. When I emerge from this I don't want to keep thinking, 'oh I'll wear that outfit someday' or 'one day I'll dress like that'. The time is NOW.
**The pictures above aren't me sadly but they are a reflection of what my wardrobe is about to look like. I feel good. I feel great.
Some of my fave Instagram accounts worth following for fashion inspo:
@jacquiealexander
@jessalizzi
@the_drobe (always post such good fits!)
@cerecampbell
@sofiamcoelho
I'm still watching the Walking Dead and I hate it X infinity
This song: Without You - Spooky Black
Stay safe out there,
Lauren x
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