Marilyn Monroe said ‘give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world’. But it’s just another line to draw a sucker in.
Fashion is fun but much of it is claptrap designer drivel.
If you comfortably dress as you like, without any peer pressure, you need read no further – this is not for you.
But fashion followers who worship at the altar of Bond Street boutiques, pay attention.
When I look at pals over the years who have had depressive breakdowns over not possessing the latest designer shoe, handbag, designer face cream or designer dog, I scoff and judge them.
What’s wrong with you? What in your own life is so bad, and has made you so insecure, that you lob your monthly salary at Dolce, Tom, Marc and co?
One of my best mates has so much couture it’s like Harvey Nics in her crib.
Except it’s not her crib; she’ll never own a home as her mortgage money was spunked on fashion. A real life Carrie Bradshaw, who once famously said ‘I like my money right where I can see it, in my wardrobe’.
Another bestie turned up to our weekly girlie cocktails years ago wearing a one-sleeved leather jacket that was the latest thing and cost hundreds. An investment piece she said. Oh how we laughed.
When do you wear a one-armed leather jacket? In the winter? Or summer? I’ve never seen her wear it since.
I’ve been brainwashed by the BS too.
As designers used to send me sample frocks to wear at awards and events, a friend suggested I ‘invest’ in two pairs of Christian Louboutin shoes. That way, she explained – as if speaking to a 5-year-old – I could pair them with anything forever.
She explained patiently to me that designer shoes were so costly because of the expert balancing in their mechanical structure. That they’d never hurt. It sounded good when she said it. I was sold.
I forked out on a black and nude pair of stilettos. Worst purchase ever. So uncomfortable I thought my foot was broken an hour after showing them off at the MOBO Awards.
‘They’re not for actual walking’, the same mate then added. ‘Only for cabs and fancy places’.
Not walking? I should have had a lobotomy.
Prescribed fashion is for the insecure and desperate to be accepted.
Yes, I said it.
Most of what I see in top fashion mags look no different from looks I could chuck together from the High Street. Why throw my travel, mortgage, life money at an outfit that I 98% guarantee I will not keep and wear forever?
People delirious for the latest must have fashion have always seemed to me to be desperate to prove they are worthy.
It’s similar to using drugs and substances to escape the reality of their real lives.
I must have the new LV coat, then my life will all be amazing, people will look at me with respect and those bastards on the door at The Ned will finally let me in!
Open any top glossy fashion mag and you’ll flick through 100 pages of advertising before you hit your first page of editorial.
No wonder you think you want it – they brainwash you before you even get to any editorial features.
But any fashion that is in the editorial pages is there because those clothing houses pay huge sums to the magazine for advertising. It’s one massive con.
It’s their job to make you feel that you can’t live without the latest faff. I know this first hand as a few of my besties are fashion stylists, editors and celebrity fashion PRs.
Oh, it’s a laugh a minute hearing their stories from hell, begging celebs to wear the latest designer tat.
Fashion prescribes contradictory messages too, so is it any wonder little girls grow up confused?
While music videos mostly show curvaceous, bootylicious babes, twerking their often fake butts like pneumatic drills. Then you flick through painfully-posh ‘fashion bible’ glossies with stick thin, shapeless girls, who seem to starve themselves.
As a roving MTV News Reporter five centuries ago, I was sent reluctantly to Fashion Weeks in Milan, New York and Paris.
God it was awful. Hundreds of po-faced, skinny, tall sticks, all wearing black. Every fashion show was like walking into a bloody funeral. They’d actually cry if they weren’t in the front row. Or worse, weren’t on the list at all. Screaming and hysterics were the norm.
Furthermore, the attendees would look at me witheringly cos I always rocked something bright.
‘I’m the bloody fashionable one,’ I’d think just as sneeringly. ‘You all look the same!’
What does it mean in the long run?
Are you going to be the person who saved for months to acquire the must-have piece of clothing, and then wakes up one day, aged 40, realising you have the best wardrobe but no home to put it in? And that you had the LV suitcases but never travelled?
If you’re stinking rich, go ahead and buy everything your heart desires.
But fashion is about being comfortable in yourself and having fun with the looks that you’re most comfortable in.