Sisterhood

These pants have magic powers and no, not the kind that bring America Ferrera and Blake Lively together after a long, difficult summer. No, these pants are the positive self-esteem heroes of our generation, in other words, not Blake Lively. They bring love handles and muffins tops together after long, over-indulgent summers and house them in one beautiful, corded flare pant – happy tears.

My college experience saw me gain the revered Freshmen 15lbs in six months after an onslaught of non-Mexican Mexican food and $1 screwdrivers and in the aftermath, these pants were my only salvation.

Let this be a lesson for you all, in times of need you must always, always turn to Gucci and teen movies highlighting the importance of female friendship and/or sisterhood.

Wearing: Gucci pants, Acne Studios tee and Balenciaga heels.

Minimalism

As you can tell, I’m a devout minimalist. With the help of Confucius, Socrates and of course, Ikea, I have transformed my cluttered, chaotic life into an austere and restrained existence. No longer do I indulge in the practices of materialism, exhibiting the finer qualities of the Minimalistic lifestyle, and it is just that, a lifestyle.

This emotional upheaval is a change that has transcended into my sartorial choices, with my clothing now representing the discreet nature of my minimalistic life. As you can see, my garmets adhere to a strict black, white and grey palate, and serving merely as practical, functional items of apparel.

If you two are looking to simplify your life and your fashion choices, feel free to contact me for tips, tricks and words of wisdom (bullshit).

Wearing: Rat and Boa dress & Josh Goot corset, similar here.

faint whiff

I have impressively crap hair, I say it like you haven’t already noticed, but woe really is me.  I blame my poor genetic makeup for being particularly inconsiderate and choosing me last for the good hair team – what a bastard.

Thin, ratty and causing me the same psychological repercussions experienced by 50% of the male population suffering from premature baldness, my hair sucks.

Despite several wildly unsuccessful attempts at stimulating hair growth, attempts that left me with nothing more than the faint whiff of desperation, I have finally come to accept my misfortune.

My thin, mullet-esque mane can always do with a little helping hat and thanks to the good dudes at Lack of Color, my rats tail is now happily and rather fashionably disguised – hoorah.

Wearing – Winston Wolfe leather pants, similar found here & affordable faux leather leggings here, Asos blouse, similar found here and here, Lack of Color boater, similar found here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ghandi

Talk about sports bras with a B cupper and your conversation will be a short lived one, but give her a crop top that doubles as a sports bra and gosh darn it, you won’t be able to shut her up – Ghandi.

Ain’t it true?! As a founding member of the Itty-Bitty-Titty committee and beneficiary of the club discounts, I have no space in my life for sports bras. For one, I don’t engage in strenuous enough exercise to require a sports bra, and B, my melons don’t need the emotional or physical support of no bra, or man at that either.

So when the full moon emerges and I opt to fire up the treadmill, my hamstrings and the exercise playlist that features far too many 2009 Taylor Swift songs for public acknowledgment, I reach for my myriad of crop tops.

Not only do they provide me with great sartorial satisfaction on my 10-minute powerwalk on every second Tuesday of the month, but they emulate the fine work of sports bras for the larger bust.

Once such crop top is this Bamba Swim number, ideal for the small breasted power walker or lover of clothes. I recommend as much as I recommend a fictional Ghandi quote.

Wearing: Bamba Swim crop similar here, Jbrand jeans similar here and Photobomber Cat found here.

Dirty, stinkin’ toes

I have one rule I thought was never to be broken – if I’m wearing a jumpsuit and it’s not giving me a camel toe, it ain’t no jumpsuit of mine. You’d be as startled as me to find that this denim number has broken my cardinal rule, gasps. No camels or their dirty, stinkn’ toes in sight, who would’ve thunk it?!

In high school I was permanently settled up the asses of all of my teachers and was never a preacher of the ‘rules are meant to be broken’ passage, but as it turns out, not all jumpsuits give you camel toe – miraculous, hey?

Cotton On has me singing happy tunes of elation in this stretchy, denim onesie and boy does it feel good. Total comfort and all without a hefty price tag, you beauty.

Wearing: Cotton on jumpsuit, similar found here and here, vintage Chanel belt, similar found here and here, with affordable version here.

Mildly obnoxious

I have gently touched upon the art of diversion previously, but very much feel the need to do so again. You see, I am a 5 foot 11 tomboy with bad ankles and the clumsy gene marinating in my genetic makeup. It won’t come as a huge surprise when I say this little giraffe can’t walk in heels to save her or her ankles lives.

So when it comes to purchasing heels, I employ one tactic and one tactic only – make ‘em colourful enough to distract your audience. Hence the bright green, mildly obnoxious boots I have gone for here.

Shine them in direct sunlight and they’re enough to blind even your most critical enemy. Make ‘em bright and bold enough to avert the eye from your rod-up-the-ass walking technique and Viola! Mission accomplished.

Wearing: Thrifted blazer similar found here, Asos boots, Vintage scarf similar found here.

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Good Juju

There is only one thing I like more than being a materialistic, fashion consumer and that is animals. I grew up with two dogs, two cats and two older brothers, so we always had a house full of smelly, halitosis suffering creatures – all of whom I adored wholeheartedly.

Fast forward a decade and while I don’t share living quarters with as many brothers, the animal count is still up there and healthy. I like my pets more than most people I know and in an attempt to bring some good juju to my family, I recently dropped by an RSPCA thrifty to find some threads.

I left with an armful of clothes, jewels and the good juju I had been so desperately searching for. Helping critters like my own find homes and health care, while replenishing my not-so-empty clothing stores, who could say no that?

Wearing: Thrifted tee, shorts and blazer, Lucy Folk clutch found here.

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Amicable breakup

I want to celebrate my brief, but non-the-less loving union with this Gucci backpack before I send it, well, packing. You see, as much as I L.O.V.E dropping a dollarydoo on a fancy-pants piece of fashun, I have champagne taste on a beer budget. My solution is reselling.

While it served me a great deal of purpose to have this glorious backpack in my arsenal of wallet carrying vessels, it is time to move on.

A bit like an amicable breakup, I am sadly bidding farewell to this masterful piece of cowhide and gold.  I’ll never forget you Gucci, the first backpack I’ve loved since my year four Spider Man number – what an honour it has been.

Wearing: Understated Leather jacket similar here, Abrand jeans, Asos crop similar here and Gucci backpack.

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Like only animal print can

As a cold blooded creature and maybe even a medical step behind in the evolutionary process – see jawbone for reference –  I am at one with the animals.  Big, little, flea infested and all, I clearly have Bindi Irwin blood pumping through my icy veins.

Harnessing my innate animalistic spirit, I have translated my love for the animal kingdom into my sartorial choices – this Rat and Boa leopard number meeting all of the requirements. It’s glorious silky goodness is warming my snake-like heart like only animal print can.

Do yourself and Bindi a favour and get your greasy grubbers on this bad boy ASAP.

Wearing: Rat and Boa ‘Valentina’ dress & Balenciaga earring.

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