she's back baby

So, undoubtedly some of you may have noticed that it's been a while since I've blogged about all things fashion.  I'm not exactly sure why I stayed away from the keyboard for so long - work, kids, house, other projects.  I guess the reality is, for a time there my heart wasn't quite in it. 

But recently I came upon what can only be described as a call for fashion help. And so, I have no choice but to don my super-fashionista cape and come to the rescue with some sage and stern words of wisdom for those of you ladies about to attend a formal event.  Men were in suits and an array of ties and women frocked up in everything from LBDs to bright graphic prints.  There were even some floor length numbers (yay for old school glamour!).  I had the pleasure of wearing a gorgeous tangerine number by Willow with some leopard skin heels from Oroton.  Also in my freshly manicured hands was a little gold clutch from Colette.

willow side drapae dress - tangerine

oroton dynamite pumps in leopard

colette hayman erica metal hardcase in gold

However, to my horror many of the women attending the evening had opted not for a clutch, or any other sort of evening bag, but were instead carting around a shoulder bag or tote. “Gasp!” “Horror!”  “Oh the humanity!” all rolled into one.  Now, as a self-confessed handbag addict, I acknowledge that even the idea of attending a special event without having purchased a little bag just for the occasion makes me break out in hives.  However, I also know that this response is a tad extreme.  Nontheless, there is absolutely no excuse for rocking up to a formal event, waxed, polished and sprayed, Hollywood tape keeping all your bits firmly in place, special undies ensuring no VPL (thanks Jockey!), and then lugging around a shopper tote - even if it is a Louis Vuitton. 

Accessories are important.  They have the capacity to pull your whole look together, and as in most other situations, attention to detail is essential to success.  And these details don't need to break the bank - although there was a little YSL number carried by one lucky lady at this event that did cause me to turn slightly green with serious designer brand envy.  My little gold friend cost a modest $34.95 and I know boohoo has some from $12.  And while I am certainly a believer that you get what you pay for, clutches, wristlets and the like are generally used for a relatively short period of time, and generally speaking, not on a daily basis, so here's a great opportunity for some up-to-the-minute disposable fashion.

Go for a little bit of relatively cheap fun, or invest in a classic clutch.  It doesn't really matter.  Just make sure that when the time comes you're not carting around something that resembles a nappy bag.

Often, the little things make all the difference.

my pick for an investment clutch -
miu miu matelasse nappa leather clutch 

This post is dedicated to Yome Retman – Thanks for all your noodging - I got there eventually!

the great divide

The other day I had a sobering experience.  Trawling through Chaddy in search of some new clothes for Little Fashionista (thank you Seed Heritage and Witchery Kids!) I stumbled into one of the shops housed in the Chadstone Luxury Precinct, attracted by a divine little clutch (be still my beating heart!) I spied from the doorway.  Granted, I was dressed a tad on the casual side - old jeans that may be losing their shape, a less than superb pair of ballet flats and a grey marle knit from what was probably Gorman's first few collections.  As a result of my less than sartorial splendour on that particular day I experienced my own slice of Pretty Woman.  No, I was not swept off my feet by a wealthy businessman due to my vivacious, carefree but firmly down-to-earth personality and heartbreakingly beautiful smile.  I was however treated by two snobby and let me say not all that busy sales assistants as an impoverished leper whose very touch could turn their high-end goodies into leatherlike totes from Target.

Needless to say I left said shop as clutchless as when I entered.  Tragic, isn't it?  More importantly, I also left feeling like I should limit my shopping experiences to Best & Less and the local Salvos - both of which by the way have provided some truly fab bargains and should never be underestimated.

I came home (with the requisite bottle of Moet to cheer me up) and told hubby about the experience.  He was at once thankful (that I didn't buy the clutch) and enlightening, bringing to my attention the disconnect which currently exists between what I wear to work and what I throw on most weekend morning.  Like many working mums, I spend a fair amount of dosh to maintain the work wardrobe - the good stuff that I don't wear around grubby, Vegemite smeared faces and snotty noses.  And so, as those of us on a fixed income would know, it is often the casual wardrobe that suffers.  It is the jeans, the t-shirts, the singlets and the wear anywhere jumpers and jackets that fail to get the attention needed to ensure you look just as good shopping in Miu Miu as you do running a meeting.  You spend on the killer pair of corporate heels but your trusty ballet flats are worn well past their use-by date.  You don't see a point in dressing up only to find yourself at the end of the day crying over the peanut butter on the sleeve of your T by Alexander Wang.  Our wear around the kids wardrobes reflect the motto we decorate our homes with: "Nothing nice till the kids are at least 16 years-old".

And so, I have come to the realisation that I need to put more effort into my wear to the shop basics, not for the snotty sales assistants but for me, to ensure I feel good about myself and the way I present to the world.  I have thrown out anything that does not make me feel gorgeous, because it's just as important to feel fabulous in your jeans and boots as it is in your Leona Edmiston frock.  Farewell slightly stained t-shirts I used to breastfeed in, au revoir shoes that have lost their shine and jeans that have lost their shape.  And lastly, goodbye to anything in grey marle.  You're really not my colour.