Monday evening, post Christmas I had planned my first day back work outfit. Comprising of Denim ‘mum jeans’ a white t shirt, chenelle cardigan and no idea on the shoes, I figured mentally, this is the one, this is the look, perfection.
When I woke up however, I found myself pulling on tailored sweat pants, a shirt with cats on it and a striped sweater. Staring myself down In the mirror for approximately ten seconds I quickly shed my kooky mix of cats and trousers/pants that were far too casual And I once again stared into the abyss of my wardrobe and figured….
I’d do better, taking off all my clothes again And reverting to my pre planned outfit. The mum jeans without the cool, Leandra factor. I still felt like I looked ridiculous as I pulled on argyle socks and brown ankle boots but somehow I stuck with it. Perhaps this was as good as I was going to get on the first work day of the year.
It was not a good idea as it turns out. I’ve never looked so unlike myself as I did that day. Nineties jeans and an equally dated fabric? In one ensemble had I woken up in a parallel universe? None of which felt a stitch like me. Arriving into London it only got worse, cold and shivering I lost the one patch of myself and femininity – a half tucked white t shirt to prove the world I actually wasn’t bloated this day. Look at that flatish stomach! It’s almost like free lypo!
In my dreadful search for a quick, cheap fix I ended up with ribbed grey sweater with 30% off in Dorothy Perkins.
The jumper itself is not bad, in fact for slightly shorter, more petite girls I’d pair it up with leggings and knee high/over the knee boots. I’ve now already determined its future come spring is to be worn as a coat over a chiffon, pleated skirt, it’s two side slits revealing the pleats and what I hope will be the prettiest ever floral design you ever did see.
Layering myself into this new sweater, I caught myself in Victoria stations bathroom and had a small smile for myself, this sweater isn’t half bad for a £15 emergency buy, maybe this won’t be so bad…. Well, perhaps it wasn’t but having lived through the late nineties and two-thousands I felt a little backward, like an awkward flash back, the eighties jeans, the early two thousands crew neck, the chenelle which was iconic to my childhood? The argyle socks people I feel like I’d had a personality crash am I me? Or am I someone else?
I was back to work again, and whereas a few days ago where sitting on my bed I’d had an epiphany about the next campaign, what I learnt my first day back was different, my eyes won’t de puff unless I wake up past seven am, I can’t get dressed before six and learning to meditate on the trains is going to take a lot of work.
Another lesson learned? Always pack an extra jumper, the odd £15 adds up fast and never trust Jess to work out how to get dressed in the first day back.