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Who Do You Dress For?

I love the fashion bloggers. They are taking the esoteric world of Haute couture and demystifying it for everyone. You don’t have the connections of Anna Wintour, the body of  Gisele Bündchen or the budget of Gina Rinehart to join in the party. Whats more the likes of Kim-Marie (http://kimbalikes.com/), Rachel (http://www.redcliffestyle.com/) and Mama Stylista (http://www.mamastylista.com/) all have an infectious exuberance. I’ve not met any of them but they seem like they’d be a fun addition to any gal posse.  They obviously get so much enjoyment from fashion whereas my relationship to clothes has been fraught.

Being style challenged is a consummate first world problem. I’m sure that the boat people would love to have the opportunity to struggle with accessories.  Nevertheless during my younger days, from the black clad wanna-be gothic teen years, through to my office life where I tried to balance the corporate uniform with a touch of individuality,I could never quite “nail it”.  The thing I “nailed” was attracting boyfriends who were quick to point out exactly what I was doing wrong. I was not sexy enough for some or elegant enough for others. Some deemed my neither sexy nor elegant. For a young woman this kind of criticism is confidence shaking. I sheepishly admit that there were occasions where I put money and time into meeting my ex-paramours’ exacting standards. If I could borrow the keys to the TARDIS I’d go back and give these jerks the middle finger with a resounding STFU.

Still I learned from these experiences. My former flames’ respect for me did not increase with a make-over. They would quickly move on to something else to criticize. Also I noticed that the response I got from the wider world didn’t change greatly based on what I was wearing. A brief stint where I played the hawt babe with towering heels and short skirts did not transform me into a man magnet. My relationships with my male friends remained grounded in humor and shared interests. It didn’t seem to matter much to them whether I was wearing jeans and flats or a bum grazing mini. On the other hand revealing outfits provoked the occasional snide remark from females.

These days I dress for no one other than myself. I wear what I feel comfortable and happy in. Trinny & Suzannah, Gok Wan and Carson Kressley can all sod right off. I intend to ski the downhill slope to old age in a blaze of colors, patterns and quirky fabulousness.

Case in point.

I’ve just invested in a super sized hat. It’s the kind favored by middle aged matrons who have nothing to do but schmooze around resorts all day. You will observe the leopard skin scarf and the oversized turtle shell retro sunglasses.  This combination feels like I’m wearing a satellite dish and a car windscreen. Nevertheless it makes perving on young hunks undetectable.

I’m picking up Foxtel with this.

Shorts are mandatory for kid wrangling in the summer months. Here is my latest purchase. They were the longest ones I could find. The pattern is busier than Charlie Sheen’s dealer but at least it takes attention away from the cellulite just beneath the hem line. I ask you why hide a round butt when you can swathe it in fab and shake it about?

Hell yeh – my butt looks big in these.

I live in a Sydney beach side suburb that is not Bondi and I’m middle aged. All roads are leading to the kaftan! I’ve recently topped up the collection with these two.

I got the blues.

The next one hails from that mecca of hippidom – Tree of Life. It came with the dubious claim that “one size fits all”. On my vertically challenged frame it is more like a Mum tent but its a Mum tent of magnificence.  I can’t wait to be mistaken for the girls’ grandmother as I waft around the kiddy pool in this flowing cascade of chiffon.

Mumabulous Mum tent.

Would any fashion post be complete without footwear? Why is that even a question? Here are my brand spanking new Mary Janes from Shoes of Prey.  You can see I’m taking my style cues from my five and a half year old. Pink and silver all the way.

I heart you MJ.

Ladies, no matter what your personal style groove happens to be – hot n’ sexy, sleek and stylish, free-range and feral or retro and rockabilly I hope you’re rocking your look just for you.

Get your glam on.

Mumabulous


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