Firstly I will explain a bit about where I live so you get the picture....
- its cold....almost all year. Even in midsummer one struggles to go out without a jacket .....which arguably is a good thing given the sartorial difficulties presented with extreme heat and the greater possible options one has if one can wear some form of outerwear;
- berghaus clothes are prolific here. As are fleeces with company names blazoned all over them. And rucksacks...and I don't mean that they wear these when they are at work;
- sartorial flair is something to be mocked not admired. In a man, any form of self expression through clothes is gay; and, in a woman, it is a sign of superciliousness. In this place you don't want to be thought of as either - unless of course you are a girl and have no need to work for a living;
- chic shops are non-exsistent. There is a topshop, a zara....and that's about it. No decent vintage either. I shouldn't complain, if the shops were better I'd have even less money; and
- to the extent girls are into fashion, it tends to be inspired more by cheryl cole & co-wags than the girls at french vogue. Fashion is not an art-form but a status symbol.
I'm not like this.
I don't really fit. And, I know I sound like a teenager - forgive me - I want to be different from all that.
I love clothes....I always have. I adore them and I love to think about style and choices and shapes and colours and textures.
I try to plough my own furrow and do my own thing....in the style desert I live in.