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In a fashion sense I don’t like to categorise myself. I like to think that I’m this big tree-hugging-hippy of the fashion world who believes that all trends are created equal and are worthy of attention. You know the girl I am talking about, the one that can swing from Balenciaga to Erin Featherston without blinking a Shu Umera glitter eyelash. The girl that will wear a leather jacket with an evening gown or stilettos with a men’s business shirt and thus I created this image of myself as the Mother Teresa of style. After donning my halo of fashion equality I went flicking through my daily outfit shots (disgustingly self indulgent I know but I do this from time to time) to praise the versatility of my fashion sense. I was about half way through the list when I realised something quite shocking. I’m soft. Really soft. Like floaty little dresses, lace ribbons, ballet flats and curls kind of soft. Exclusively soft. How terribly disappointing. Even when I am wearing all black with slices of red and aviator sunglasses I manage to ruin the streamlined style with some form of ruffle or frill. And I just can’t ditch the lace. I try and I try but my soul bleeds for it.

Sometimes I wish that I was tall and slim with a blunt fringe, skinny leg jeans and chunky wedges with chains and padlocks on them. However I have sampled this look and it just doesn’t work for me. I come out looking like a Cabbage Patch Doll of the underworld. It’s all the pesky dimples and rosy cheeks I have happening. Can’t I be gaunt and morose like a Russian model? Can’t I have a truck width gap between my thighs? Can’t I wear impossibly over-sized clothing without appearing like a human marshmallow? And why is it that when I do smoky eyes they just look dirty but they look so chic on the girls with razor sharp cheekbones who have boyfriends named Claude?

To be perfectly honest though, I don’t really mind being cute. I decided long ago that all women are either sexy or cute and are rarely both. I’m cute. I’ve resigned myself to the fact with my Pollyanna ringlets, chubby cheeks and my tendency to fall asleep in public I’m destined to be a ringleader for the Strawberry Shortcake brigade for the rest of my life. The manga-like sweetness has it’s pluses though. It’s likely I am going to look like I am twelve forever. People let their guard down because I look like a sugar coated bunny rabbit but really I’m a calculating bitch from hell. Oh and old people are always nice to me because I dress like a lady.

This leads me to the main point of this post. I’m clearly icing sugar on the outside right? Just a big old bucket of rainbows and sunshine. However if you read my blog regularly you’ll know I am a sassy lass who is sarcastic, rude and quite self indulgent. So I’ve been thinking that maybe we dress in opposition to our personalities to even it all out? You know what they say about women who dress like librarians. Absolute demons in the sack. And girls that show it all off can sometimes be quite shy behind closed doors? So I’m turning it over to you ladies! Do you agree? Are you a sweetheart who likes to wear leather? Or a nasty girl who has a penchant for twin sets and pearls? You can also mention your sexual prowess if you feel that it’s necessary…

Love Lady Smaggle

xxx