Should you think bows and feathers,
I’d be the very last person to come to mind.
And rightly so.
Growing up, whenever my mum tried to pretty my ponytails or pigtails with ribbons, I’d snip them off as soon as her back was turned. That same rule applied to my wardrobe. Were there any laces or ruffles or trims or bows, a wee snippity snip, and they’d vanish. Really, really. Of course, being only 6 or 7 at the time, there were moments of miscalculation which inevitably resulted in what I shall forever lay claim to be strategically placed holes in my clothes. Poor mum. She’d wring her hands in despair even as my dad chuckled at the rabid ferocity with which I attacked those decorative binds and ties.
Given such a premise, it’s no surprise that over the past 4 decades, I’ve steered very far away from adornments of this nature and given them the widest of berths. Particularly when you recall how vocal I’ve been on the concept of looking cute.
Are you as shocked as I am to now see me thus bedecked, not just with a feather in my hair, but good heavens, with a black bow neatly around my neck? And yes, before you ask, I do feel a sense of guilt. Treachery. A feeling that I have somehow crossed my own boundaries and ventured, if with somewhat teeny tiny Geisha steps, into the land of looking exceedingly feminine.
Perhaps a tad cute even.
From these images, it may appear as though I’ve shot myself in the foot, doesn’t it?
I wasn’t intentionally aiming for anything so, err, ladylike? I did, however, know that when I spotted the gorgeous Yuka wearing this ever so charming button-down on her blog, I had to get one for myself. Which is in itself a rather unusual occurrence since (as evident from my archived posts) I never wear anything remotely blouse-esque. Ever.
Neither have you seen those airy fairy plumes floating around the blog in the past.
We're talking button-down and feather and bow, all in the one same outfit.
What is happening to me?
A fair amount of soul-searching went into the penning of this post, I’ll have you know. Was my style evolving so much that it could no longer be pegged as being this or that? Or could it be, gasp, that in the name of pushing boundaries, I’d lost that bit of what made me, me?
A bit of both. That’s what I realised. A glorious mesh of both.
In extending myself outside of my norm, I was beginning to put together looks which simply could not be defined by a single adjective. Outfits which no longer fit neatly into a category. And I love that. I adore that element of unexpectedness. Of surprise. Of inciting double takes when people realise it’s me wearing an outfit they never thought I would. At the end of the day, isn’t that what creating your own style is all about? Bringing life to a look not with accoutrements but feeling. A vibe. Something utterly non tangible but is so strong, it pulsates.
Isn’t it about putting your personal stamp on an outfit and making it your own?
Ergo the presence of Taxidermy Raven Rings and Bracelet. Statement Honeycomb Leather Cuff. Equally dramatic Lizard Leather Clutch. Graphic Booties. Very Sheela. Very unapologetic. With a hint of Chanel lady-who-sips-afternoon-tea-with-crumpets-and-honey.
p/s photos by Eve
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