But about 30 years ago, something changed. Clothes shopping used to be an occasional event-something that happened a few times a year when the seasons changed or when we outgrew what we had. A tragic reality check for fashionįashion wasn’t always as destructive of an industry. Here’s why it’s best to steer clear when you can. įast fashion is a relatively new phenomenon in the industry that causes extensive damage to the planet, exploits workers, and harms animals. Buying through our links may earn us a commission-supporting the work we do. So instead I grab whatever is closest and that is the moment when the universe decides it’s time for fun and sends along someone who I don’t want to see.Our editors curate highly rated brands that are first assessed by our rigorous ratings system. For a day when I need a hit of frock courage.įor when I decided that after three years of them hanging in my closet with their tag still attached, that I should actually wear them. Instead I try to save them for I’ve got something good to do. Because I have an irrational fear of wasting a good outfit on an average day. What about the Cue pink number reminiscent of Carrie Bradshaw’s hot pink number above? Nah … save it for a day when there are post-work drinks.īut no. Shall I go for one of the newly acquired and already much-loved Mister Zimi frocks? Nah … I’m just going to be sitting at my desk all day and that would be a waste. You’d think that after years of running into someone I secretly love/lust after/loathe while looking total bollocks (usually in some kind of stained or even worse … LYCRA) I’d have learnt my lesson and just dressed normally.Įspecially when my wardrobe contains so much potential. Closer to how I actually looked…Īnd that white jeans were not my greatest fashion choice-especially when the BBC kept doing zoomed-in aerial shots which made my thighs look somewhat familiar to Bridget Jones’ bottom sliding down the fireman’s pole. The last time I wore such a sunny hue was while cheering on Leyton Hewitt at Wimbledon with the Fanatics and mum text (while watching from Australia) to tell me that yellow wasn’t my colour. This is mostly because it’s just a few shades darker than yellow, which is also not my colour. It’s fair to say, orange is not my colour. In orange.Īnd I’m not talking a pretty pinky orange, peach or soft and feminine apricot I’m talking witches hat ORANGE. While he was looking hot, I was more of a hot mess. Think McDreamy but with a touch of Hugh Grant’s floppy hair … not entirely floppy, just messy in a manly kind of way. Then, hours later-while sitting at my desk and far away from my wardrobe filled with dresses in various shades of blue, pink, red and stripes-I remembered that it was the day I was interviewing a very attractive man. Outfit complete … hurry it’s time to go (well, it was 10 minutes ago)! Singlet (that’s a vest for my UK readers). It was the kind of day when I was running late for work because I’d been trying to learn the dance moves to Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ for my best friend’s hen’s night so I threw on the first clothes I could find. Well, last Friday wasn’t one of those days. You might pull on a killer pair of heels to add height and a bit of sex appeal or even brush your hair (I judge an event’s importance by whether I brush my hair or simply poke it with my fingers). You know those moments in life when you know something good is going to happen so you dress accordingly something in which you feel pretty, feminine or even damn hot.
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