Bombshell

Bought about by my slow decline over the hill and my steady approach to an imminent quarter life crisis, I have been doing some serious searching of the soul lately. Journeying on as deep of a trail of self-discovery as my encumbered soul can muster, I have come to one important realisation.

My favourite colour is no longer yellow.

Having only just come to terms with this calibre of bombshell (measuring -1 on the bombshell metre, a bit like me), I am still finding it difficult to discuss openly. I am however, choosing to push through my fiery inner turmoil and break down the stigma, in the desperate hopes that my words help anyone else in a similar position.

I have spent the last 23 cushy years of my existence believing yellow, in all of its kind, warm hues was my numero uno – oh how wrong I was. I am now, after much internal assessment, announcing my allegiance with green and I encourage y’all to do the same.

If my laborious, overly-detailed and mildly-waffled explanation was not evidence enough, I bring before the court, my smoking gun – this Georgia Alice dress.

Ladies, gentlemen and our gender fluid friends, I rest my case.

Wearing: Georgia Alice dress found here, Celine necklace found here and jerky grin.

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.

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.

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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Frosty Fruit

I heart the Winter Olympics.

There’s nothing as cathartic as sitting my hind quarters down, grabbing a Frosty Fruit and placing empty bets with Dad on which Athlete of Russia will be caught doping next – apparently all of them. What’s not to like?

When the curtains closed on the spectacle that was, I fell into a sad state of lowly depression. Not even smashing a Frosty Fruit or trying to cash in those bets I dropped with fazher could cheer me up.

Out of sheer desperation and in dire need of a pick-me-up, I turned to the only thing I knew would heal me – retail therapy. It was there, in the depths of the interwebs that I found the band aid I needed.

This glorious With Jean number is not sartorially satisfying, but it’s as patriotic as an American – green and gold baby! Gold medal for this frock.

Wearing: vintage clutch similar found here, With Jean Camille dress, Front Row Store mules similar found here.
Photography:  Anastasia Borrelli

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Tax Inclusive

Some old bloke once spat something about the best things in life being free, but damn man, I beg to differ. Aside from my eccentric ‘rents and the fur children, my favourite things in life are tax inclusive, have a regular retail price and hang proudly in my wardrobe. Yep, de clothes I yarn on about so much – turns out I’m rather fond of ’em.

This lil’ jacket is no exception, with a deadly combination of velvet and gold, it’s a partnership not to be overlooked. I gotta admit, this devilishly good-looking shoulder cover even rivals my ‘rents in the pecking order of loved ones – although fur babes remain forever untouchable, duh.

Wearing: Zara blazer, similar found here and here, Jbrand jeans similar found here and here, Gucci belt found here, Are You Am I top found here.
Photography: Anastasia Borrelli

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