Abandoned Fashion(s)

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Abandoned fashion

Sometimes it catches me. A girl wearing black, boot cut hip huggers*, or black ballet pumps with a wrap sweater that there are all these staples pieces which I have abandoned to probably never wear again.

The other day it suddenly occurred to me after lusting over a knee length denim button up skirt that once upon a time as a teenager I thought a denim mini skirt would always be in fashion. Now, no one wears them not even teenage girls trying to impress spot covered boys on the hill in my hometown.

Now we all invest in normcore. Ripped skinnies we think will never date, leather jackets which actually may one day be relegated to the back of the closet where you* hide military inspired jackets and shirts reminiscent of Jack Sparrow in “Pirates of the Caribbean.”

We make promises to our hoarder selves “These will come back around. We had a good time once, no point to chucking them when I can look effortlessly cool in my own vintage!”

More likely you will never wear these things again. Your daughter, son might but to you they will never again quite hold that same fresh vibe. Trends will resurface, polished and altered to fit new body shapes and ideals of beauty. You’ll buy others casts offs for that vintage cool you can’t get anywhere else. You might buy my hip hugging black flared trousers to pair with some futuristic heel and a bandanna and I’ll be purchasing your cast off skirts and leather normcore I missed the first time.

After all, the problem we have, as millennials, is we’ve been spoilt with fast fashion. If it’s not new to us it’s tarnished, old, forgotten like denim mini skirts. Reserved only for the memories of a similar, embarrassing time when you would flirt outrageously and think somehow you looked just as cool as you think you are now.

Abandoned Fashion it seems is all around. (A little like love…actually) because of this I have been thinking a lot about slow fashion. I was recently privileged enough to meet Pioneer, Safia Minney for work and honestly I have been fan girling ever since. I’ll speak more about this at another time but I have been thinking a lot about my relationship to fashion and in this case, abandoned fashion. The pieces you once loved above all else and now … not so much, how our choices change and how that affects the way we consume fashion. How our social attitudes affect our purchasing decisions and ultimately how we let the retail industry dictate to us how to consume fashion.

I’m getting real deep here when all I wanted to say is this. I for sure, still have leather military pieces, I never bought a denim mini skirt and I’m lacking a suitable amount of normcore, so do you think you guys could save yours for me? I’ll probably be looking for it several years from now . . .

#AbandonedFashion

*Because I wrote this on my ipad, this originally said, hip nuggets. I was loathed to correct it, so now you know!

*I hid them, I did! I just can’t say no to a leather military jacket

The Consequences of Trends & Fashion Injuries

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“I realise we most often say, fashion is pain. But how far is pain and how far is reckless abandon?”

Fashion & consequences of a #fashiondisaster

As I write this I’m stuck on a train. Not an unfamiliar place for me however, today it’s a special type of hell reserved only for the particularly clumsy among us. My love of fashion, like many also means that I take a great deal of risk in my every day-to-day life.

What am I talking about? The flatform brogue of course.

A flat, mannish shoe which is often the dream of all of us carrying a good chunk of the nhs’s aluminium rood allowance but for which is also perhaps our graceless demise.

I myself own two pairs. A well-worn pair of stone suede flatforms with patent inserts and a coral stripe through the heal; they give me bounce from their foam sole whilst keeping my foot nicely flat. Meanwhile my second pair, is an even more masculine copper pair, tied with laces they make me feel either part ahead of the curve or part Victorian man with curious looking bronze leather.

Usually we get along.

But then today* we had one of those rare accidents often only reserved for these shoes alone. I was minding my own business you see, making my normal game of chicken with train times at Clapham (a greatly unreliable train station for surprise cancellations and everyday delays which often prompts me to flick between platforms looking to grab the first train possible) when it hit. My knee that is.

Let me say at 25 there really is little more that is sexy than a woman who really knows how to throw down on a staircase. Just ask the same ankle which took the brunt four years ago. At least this was up the stairs, however!

Now, as I sit on the train from hell with my leggings and half of Clapham station welding itself into my flesh I wonder about the little talked about subject of fashion injuries.

Sometimes they are funny, one poncho I own for example makes it very complicated walking around the house without finding myself attached to every door I pass. Whilst others bruise egos and even break bones but where is the line in the sand, where does fashion overstep the lines of cool and practical and turn dangerous?

A quick trip up Clapham hardly seems a worry, but having had a step and a pair of badly fitting work shoes cause two breaks and a dislocation resulting in surgery & a year of my life that I can’t get back then I have to start feeling differently about my need to follow the trends blindly.

My old town, Maidstone was often a horror to witness on a Friday/Saturday … hell Tuesday night out. Here skyscraper heels you can’t walk in and bodycon dresses really are the lay of the land. Come dressed in anything less (or perhaps more) and you might as well of stayed at home.

Perhaps this is something you can only truly understand at the sounds of your own bones breaking but it would make me shudder to watch.

These girls could barely walk in these heels and yet as the brave souls they are they would track out (minus a coat, even in snow) to the town for dancing, drinking far to much all with no thought to their ankles whilst I would watch cringing and holding tightly onto Joshes shoulder down any staircase, even in flats.

I realise we most often say, fashion is pain. But how far is pain and how far is idiocy?

I’m pretty cautious about my fashion at the best of times but how far do you feel you can go? Personally I wear my flatforms a little less. Sometimes I need them but other times I don’t feel safe enough, or comfortable enough to wear them out. Having lost movement in one ankle, seemingly forever I don’t want to risk them again if I can. I make shoe choices based on comfort, on support and protection of every bone regardless of fashion and trends. It makes acquaintances laugh and think I’m strange but I just can’t justify the hurt of limbs for the everyday call of fashion.

How do you view fashion vs comfort and support? Are you the bravest of the bunch not afraid of a break or bruises or, like me, do you put more consideration into safety with your clothes? Leave your comments or own funny clothing story below or send me a tweet @JessicaALow #fashiondisaster I’d love to hear about your own disasters (it’ll help make me feel a little less embarrassed at least.)

*this was written a month or two ago and sadly forgotten on my ipad

 

Furniture | Copper Accents

Made, three legged table +  Desk top lamp from Sainsburys (now, only in store), Utensil pot, Oliver Bonas (now only in store if available), Large bamboo display bowl+ Next copper mirror +

I hate to tell you that I’m trend led but sometimes I am. There is something so delicious about a good metallic that how could I resist such beauties? Whats a particular favourite about a metallic is it reflects light! I know my flat wasn’t exactly in the dark but I certainly have my days of wishing we had more light and a little light reflecting lamp stand or bowl and your laughing, in copper perfection . . .

Who said you can’t wear white after labour day? Summer Remix.

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One trend for this autumn is wearing all white for that strong “winter white” look. So I think that I might just have to remix this look from summer. Which I think will do me just fine for wearing with tomorrows plum lip -Which I’m a small bit obsessed with!

I’m telling you guys this whole not shopping business becomes a whole lot harder when presented with a possible weekend away. Even though it may only be for a (rather large) errand I’m already fighting myself against the erge to buy a new look for the weekend.

Note to self; must. use. own wardrobe.

egh, the horror! Will I last the whole three months? I’m beginning to wonder if I can start betting against myself? Then I could at least make my self something out this . . . Or should it be the knowledge that I don’t need to shop to be enough of a reward? mmm tough.