The Old Days

Going back to a fashion college environment for an event was a wierd experience, with everyone dressed and layered up to the nines, trying so hard to impress one another. It made me a bit queasy not only because of the volumes of hairspray holding up the Amy Winehouse beehives and cleaning lady scarf wrapped around the head which the girls were loving sick, or the extreme amount of fluroscent legs under shorts, with leopard over floral over zebra over glitter over plaid, but also because this is what I used to do too. I wasn't sure if my funny feeling was because I miss having the liberty to dress up everyday (the highlight of my day for three years) and think I could get away with whatever I wanted like my gumboots with a size 18 polyester 80s print dress with shoulder pads, my XXXL Dad's argyle sweater and my Mum's old Brownie leader scarf on my head, which was one such ensemble that I remember was particularly pleased with as an ode to my British heritage. Or my long sleeved, woollen rib knit leotard (inspired Madonna's hung up video), Grace Jones leatherette skirt, Thatcheresque  power shoulders in a jacket, with a Jackie O Pucci style print and regal plastic costume jewellery (referencing Queen Elizabeth) in my salute to women in power. Clearly noone got my references and I looked like a ridiculous try hard but I thought I was pretty clever at the time and took all the funny looks on the street as a compliment. It was fun living in the fashion school bubble where anything was permitted, and these cool kids were having fun doing it too. Even if they looked like a joke.

Am I just getting old and bitter or maybe jealous? Or is it being in a new and unfamiliar environment and not wanting to draw attention to myself? Probably both. I've been dressing uber safe since arriving in London, in fact I hate to admit, I bought a pair of jeans last week. I know. Shameful.

The boys I saw around were all about purple, bleached assymetrical hair and flamboyant scarves. There were lots of flowers in hair, berets, bowlers and funny glasses. I wish I could have taken photos but I already felt a bit foreign. And past it. And a bit of bittersweet longing for the past...