The doors opened, and you were immediately greeted by bright, bold patterns, various fabrics, textures and an array of colours. An army of dresses tucked up next to each other, each trying to stand out from the other, with collars peeking through the hangers, and long sleeves draped so delicately. All worn daily, weekly. And with stories to tell. A personality to show. Dress upon dress. Skirt upon skirt. And blouses upon blouses.
That was my wardrobe. In 2012.
And then, I grew up. I got lazy.
And I became a fan of the one thing I always had a fear of. Jeans.
I bought my first pair of jeans. The Topshop Leigh ones. I’m currently still on said jeans, and have since brought two more pairs. And I really like jeans.
Jeans just make an outfit easy.
Dinner with friends? Throw on some jeans and a top.
Few drinks after work? Jeans are perfect.
A shopping day on the weekend? Jeans are best for the changing room.
Late for work in the morning? I’ll grab my jeans with a nice top. That’ll do.
A date? Sure, jeans look like the happy medium.
Running errands? Pass me the jeans.
Jeans, just work.
But George have decided to rebel. They decided on wash day, when they panicked about wearing their not so favourite pair of jeans out, that we get too comfortable in our clothes.
So they set me a challenge. One week, no jeans.
Or so I thought.
The day this beautiful ditsy print dress* arrived (did you know that Erica is an actual fairy godmother?), I did have a moment. A moment of lust, where I forgot about my solid as a rock relationship with my jeans. And I sacked them off. No, I didn’t even pick them up and tell them about my new love.
Instead, I waltzed out of my front door in my new dress, with a belt round my waist and these oh so lovely boots* that are the colour of chocolate, and make me want to eat them up, on my feet.
And I felt good.
I felt good in the sense that I swanned about for the day. I looked, how do I put it?
Trendy? The bomb? On point? FASHION GOALS?
Or maybe, I just felt good. Because I felt different. I was wearing a dress. I stepped out of my comfort zone from picking up my trusty (and not so black anymore) jeans, and wore things that I was always so fond of. And in that moment, I was ready for my challenge.
And the following morning, I got dressed. In said dress again (we’re all human. We totally wear things two days running, some people even more..). And the following day, I wore a skirt.
And the day after that, I wore a different dress with my fancy cardigan*
And then the next day, I wore said dress, tucked into a skirt.
And then, I failed.
I didn’t get up early enough. I didn’t plan my outfit in time. I didn’t feel quite so on point, or trendy. I felt rushed.
And I wore my jeans.
But having said that, in those few days of being challenged, it reminded me why I liked wearing jeans. Why making a little bit more effort in the morning of what you wear, can really make a difference to your day.
Dressing good makes you feel good.
So George, I may have failed this time. But I’m making it my mission as of now, to get up earlier at least three times a week and mix up my style.
Maybe next week… My bed just seems a little bit too cosy right now..