There has been in my wardrobe for an awfully long time a black lace tunic that I bought in my massive Isabel Marant-for-H&M-splurge about three years ago. I basically have never worn it because I don’t know how. On its own it looks like Hallowe’en fancy dress. It is too long to tuck into things satisfactorily, it is to short to be a dress. Do not be fooled by the picture: it is entirely see-through.
But it was hard-won, well-made and I like it and don’t want to get rid of it. I just thought – at some point, I will work out what to do with this and how to wear it.
And yesterday, I think I found the answer.
I have been for a while following a French girl on Instagram called @meleponym. I try to overlook the fact that she is a size eight, probably about 23 with a cool minimalist Parisian apartment, (rage, vomit, die), and just bleed her for outfit inspiration. She wears only black, grey, denim, white and sometimes a leopard print accessory and just mixes it all around in the epitome of a capsule wardrobe in action.
She has recently been wearing a lot of lace under denim as casual daywear and actually, it looks perfectly alright, not slutty or weird (especially with a pair of trainers). So I followed suit, putting that grey Uniqlo cardigan over the whole lot and rescued my lace tunic from a lonely life on the hanger.
It is a good philosophy generally when looking at your wardrobe in despair, to see if you can take a racy, mad thing you bought in a fit of hormonal madness and drown it in dowdy items in order to turn it from slutty mc-slutsville into the unexpected item in your outfit, which makes the whole thing shine – like a 23 year old French girl.
I think this is why I follow people on Instagram who post pics of flowers. Can’t be doing with all that rage, vomit, die first thing in the morning.
Excellent! Have just followed her. Determined to Be More Successful on Instagram but fear at 37 am too elderly to understand it properly. Mainly follow cats and dogs. Am waternymph01
waternymph01
what is this necklace please? Before I buy anything I ask the question ‘Will it make me look French?’
this is a family hand-me-down but you can get something very similar from Gray’s Antiques if you’re ever in town x
Looking at that Instagram I feel like I’ve been mixing dowdy with dowdy *bursts into tears*
No, but I have a grey denim tube miniskirt I’m never sure about that is a bit 80s (unfortunately Rita Sue and Bob Too rather than Breakfast Club) and I always wear a big stripy jumper and clumpy boots with it to tone it down so I get this totally. I’ve nearly got rid of it dozens of times but I quite like it, damn it.
And don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ve inspired some rage and vomit in your time *jovial shoulder punch* (And that’s nothing on the awkward compliments I’ve given people in real life)
Oh God. I’ve just followed her – I now want her leather jacket, mad buckle-y boots and blonde, wavy hair. I think I need to keep away from Instagram.
That looks great with just a hint of lace peeping out. ‘Racy, mad thing you bought in a fit of hormonal madness’- Oh yes, I can relate to this. When my daughter was about four months old I used to frequently ‘nip out for nappies’ and end up shuffling around Topshop (Topshop! Of all places! The denial!) fingering shoddily-made wisps of material whilst forgetting that my leaking monstrous tits were anathema to anything that was vaguely sexy and not constructed from old-lady-pants material. Anyway, it came to a head, when after a particularly effluvium-filled period, I spotted a pair of thigh high black leather boots with 8 inch heels. I remember the sales assistant holding my wriggling daughter (at 4 months even she knew this was an unwise purchase) as I tried them on ‘Do they look slutty?’ I asked. ‘Nooooo!’ She replied. ‘In fact they look chic because of your trench coat’ (Yes. That would be my trusty navy trench encrusted in snot, tears, and porridge). ‘Right,’ I shrieked, bundling Soph in her buggy and running to the till, ”I’ll get them. Now. Quick’. They have sat quietly in my shoe cupboard for seven years. Well. Apart from one instance where we had moved house and my partner’s Gran (old school Scottish Highland Granny, with Victorian views on flesh etc) was visiting and helping us to unpack the last few boxes. We were busy in another room and heard an unearthly Mrs Doubtfire-esque scream and came through to find her clutching one of the boots as if it was a dead rat or a mammoth butt plug. To this day she believes I’m secretly ‘a hussy’. And all because of that irrational new dazed Mum purchase. (On reflection, may also have something to do with a sex swing box she found that was-innocently- lurking in our utility cupboard, but that’s another long-winded story).
Like an idiotic moth to the flame I went and checked out mademoiselle lepony.
As a result I have spent entire morning feeling like a fat frump. Haven’t even got any black lace lurking in my wardrobe to cheer myself up with.
BUY SOME JANE BUY SOME
I have just followed @meleponym and now I really hope that my denim jacket will squeeze underneath my leather jacket without cutting off the blood circulation in my arms. If this does not work I will then want a bigger leather jacket and my bank account will laugh at me.
Whatever you do, DO NOT look up Anouk Yve on Instagram (go on, look! but be prepared for the V-R-D). I was so close to buying those pointy little white boots she has (yes, I’m still lusting after white boots) but then realised they would make me look like a geriatric pixie.
I definitely thought you were announcing a new baby by the way your hand was. Not to be, it seems, and I’m a bit sad as I would dearly like a ‘things you actually need for a baby’ post to inform the uniformed (and pregnant) amongst us….
NO FUCKING WAY. another baby would kill me and wreck what’s left of my marriage. sorry to disappoint.
Ha ha I might get this printed up on some business cards…
In which, congratulations you’re not pregnant 😄! But consider the piece, please? I’m sure all of those with no friends-with-kids or baby experience would really appreciate it.
I’m sure there were a few posts of this nature on Recipe Rifle if you Google RR baby or search the archive I dare say you’ll find them. Though unfortunately having a baby is just a very steep learning curve of finding what works for you and ignoring everything else. It’ll come naturally, or it won’t, but find your way and don’t worry too much what everyone else is doing – they grow up automatically. All the best xx
There is no advice which can prepare you for the world destroying horror of your first child. Yes, they are cute and (most) people love them* however it is a terrible shock, which leaves you exhausted. Make sure you fill the freezer full of healthy meals (too much takeaway causes unhappiness) and wait and see. You’ll find out what kind of mother you are after you meet your baby! Good luck and the horror reduces significantly when the child turns 2 1/2
*if you don’t, it is not because you’re a bad person but because you’re body has messed up the memo on what hormones to release. If you are ambiguous about your baby, just chat to a health visitor (although they are useless) or a doctor… I struggled with my first and then was overwhelmed with love for my second…
Thanks Elena! This genuinely made me feel better xxx
I’m glad. It’s all okay in the end, even if at times you want to scream! Xxx