Language warning- severe overuse of the word “fashion”.
In one of the not-so-cool facts about my otherwise pretty-awesome-in-general- life, I suck at fashion.
Surprised? Not… really? One can’t blame you. We’ve all seen me vlog in my very daggy grey cardi.
I am, most definitively, a jeans and tee shirt kinda chick. I wear jeans. And a t-shirt. When it’s cold, the t-shirt is long sleeved, and I add a daggy
grey cardigan of some description. When it’s hot, the jeans become shorts, and the tee shirt is more of the ‘singlet top’ variety.
For the most part, I’m OK with being an anti-fashionista. It’s not that I don’t like fashion. I do. It’s not that I don’t like shoes. I really, really do. (Remind me to over-share about my massive, mostly unworn shoe collection another day, OK? OK.)
It’s just that I cannot pull this fashion stuff off. If I tried to wear this…
…to the movies (I actually saw someone wearing something very similar to this to the movies a couple of weeks ago. On a Sunday. A Sunday. A Sunday in the Purple House doesn’t even qualify for jeans. I was wearing my yummy mummy tailored tracksuit pants), I would be carrying those bloody shoes, my hair would have fuzzed in the air con and I would have choptop ice cream drops down both my cleavage and my decolletage. (I think they may actually be the same thing. Or, possibly, that decolletage is not actually the word I’m after and doesn’t belong in this context at all. Whatever.)
I’m also a massive tight arse. I refuse to pay more than $20 for a shirt, $30 for a cardigan, $50 for a pair of jeans, and
$100 $70 $50 $30 for a pair of shoes. Which means that even when I do find a fashion that tickles my Prada, my tight-arsedness will not actually allow me to purchase it. The Man is an even bigger tight arse than I. (And proud of it). And it seems to be a muchly contagious condition.
Anywhatsits. While I am a jeans and tee shirt, or jeans and shirt and cardi, or shorts and a singlet top kinda chick, and a tight arse, I am continually in awe of these awesome women who can actually buy fashion, wear it with other fashion, and look hot. Look comfortable. Look like they just stepped out of a magazine, and they wear this stuff all the time. Because they do. They never look uncomfortable.
,and like they feel like everyone’s staring at them and maybe their undies are showing and why didn’t I just wear jeans and I want to go home.
*Ahem* Sorry. My issues.
Whatever. Fashion women. Cool women. Women like Viv from Ish and Chi and Bec from Girls Gone Child. Who not only wear fashion, but blog it. And make most of the rest of us go “*Sigh*. In my next life, I will be someone who can wear cool clothes and not feel like a d*ck.”
And then there’s… well.. me. Who can’t wear cool clothes, and always feels like a d*ck when she tries to wear cool clothes. The anti fashionista mum. With my anti-fashionista, dressed-in-Best-and-Less kids.
So…. as a tribute, of sorts, to the anti-fashionista mums, the ‘wish-we-were’ mums, the ‘I shop at Targay‘ mums; here is the Anti-Fashionista Fashion Spread. In the..erm.. fashion.. of Ish and Chi and Girls Gone Child.
Yuhuh. It ain’t fashion, but it’s what we wear.
Fashionista mums, we salute you.
And the anti-fashionista mums- we salute you, too.