Since the very first day of summer, I have been looking forward to the arrival of winter. ‘Comfort’ and ‘summer’, as far as my wardrobe are concerned, are not pals.
Not only do I love the cold, I absolutely live for comfort when it comes to clothes, and that is something incredibly hard to navigate when it’s too hot for anything other than a skirt and vest. I am at my happiest in a pair of jeans and a jumper, it’s always been like that and I don’t see it changing any time soon.
But, as any of our UK readers will know, this summer has not only been hot, it’s been never-ending. From June until the end of last week, the idea of wearing a jumper made me actually feel a little bit faint, which meant that I’ve had to deal with a lot of my summer-clothing related issues.
Most notably, during the bank holiday weekend at the end of August. Together with a great group of some of my favourite people, my family and I (minus my sister who was wrecking herself at Reading Festival) spent three days at the Big Feastival, a music and food festival which is always one of my absolute favourite weekends of the year. Bored of my own appearance and appreciating that I really could do better than a jumper for a weekend like this, on the Saturday morning I raided my mum’s wardrobe and somehow found the confidence to knock my outfit out the park in a beautiful and totally un-me grey chiffon skirt.
Because the outfit was totally out of my comfort zone, I did spend a lot of the day, before we set off, doubting EVERYTHING about my decision that morning, feeling ever so slightly like I was in fancy dress. Fabulous fancy dress, but fancy dress nonetheless. But, in the spirit of festival-chic, I embraced the outfit, covered myself and my friends in some beautiful metallic temporary tattoos and headed festival-wards.
What followed was one of the greatest days of my life. To break it down for you it went something like this: We drank some cocktails. We chanted. We sang. We started a conga line. We got on each other’s shoulders. We had piggy back races. We moonwalked (well, I did). We laughed. We cried. We laughed some more. We had the most magical day. Looking back I realise if you had followed us around we would probably have made a cracking advert for British summertime. Honestly, the whole thing was magical.
And you know what? It was made one millions times better by the fact that I was dressed as a princess. Because I FELT like one!! I’m so cheesy right now I just wanna whack myself in the head, but I don’t even care. I loved the way I felt that day so much. I loved that strangers were complimenting me. I loved that as I wiggled my hips the skirt went with me. I loved that from somewhere I pulled the confidence out the bag to rock an outfit SO different to what I’d normally wear.
When I got home from the festival I thought about writing about the whole thing, my adventures in the chiffon skirt, but for some reason I didn’t do it, maybe I thought it was a little bit tragic! But walking through the busy streets of London today, in an outfit that I am not entirely sure that I am comfortable in, I realised that I had to write it. Because the longer that I am alive, the more I learn about myself, and in this instance I learned that actually I really shouldn’t feel that I have to hide underneath my clothes, instead, I should be using them as a tool to shine through.
Quite recently I’ve felt like I’m at a bit of a crossroads with the blog, with the imminent publication of the book and the fact that everyone everywhere is asking me how I am going to turn the blog into a business, as a result I am sad to say that I have felt myself growing a little bit detached from it, perhaps because I have been thinking about it SO much. But I have decided to bring it back to basics, back to what I love, which is writing about things as seemingly boring as my outfit of the day, but that I hope aren’t boring because of the little lessons that I am learning.
The moral of this particular story I suppose, is that sometimes it is so fabulous to pull yourself out of your comfort zone, even if it is a huge battle. Since my wonderful weekend I have started to look into the idea of buying MORE skirts, and today I am actually wearing a suede one. Cooer. I have come to realise that I should not be hiding my body, and wondering time and time again if something is flattering. What I should be doing is what makes me happy, and I know for certain that that skirt made me very happy indeed.
So next time you find yourself tearing through your wardrobe in a blind panic because, like EVERYTHING makes you look like a marshmallow, why don’t you do something totally uncalled for, something totally unexpected, and dress yourself totally out of your comfort zone, after all, until you’ve been, you never know what you might find there…