Retail therapy

Fashion has always made me feel fabulous; it’s allowed me to express the many sides of my personality when words have failed me.  It’s been my coaxing alter ego that wants me to shine and be seen when I’d rather be invisible.  It forces me to create when I believe I am devoid of inspiration. 

I know I’m emerging from a low season when I rediscover my accessory drawer like I’ve seen it for the first time.  The perspex shapes rest lovingly in my palms alongside the heavy chains which leave me unburdened.  The flashing thoughts of negativity and self-doubt are temporarily replaced with visions of vibrancy, a happy and contented version of me in my finery. 

See style has been my chosen type of play for a lifetime, “dressing up” was always the best form of distraction when I’m feeling down.  From less is more to more is less.  There’s never a long-term specific theme, one day it could be masculine and minimalist, another girlie and excessive.  Shades of darkness and when I’m feeling high, pastels and prints when I’m feeling low. 

The ambiguity of our chosen costume often raises more questions than answers.  It’s a form of creation in which the mystery always remains; there are never quite enough clues to be certain.  No matter the number of layers, embellishment or detail, nobody can ever know what I’m wearing underneath it all.