Guardian Girl

I loved this one because it involved trying to look as much like an old, bearded man as possible when I am a young woman with no beard. I rarely feel so feminine. I think he looks really cool and I like my version of his outfit too, even though seeing photos of myself in sunglasses always makes me realise how wonky my ears are.

Packed up

Cracked up

• I doubt if anyone at the Guardian had me in mind when they were styling this one, so it wouldn’t be fair to draw too many conclusions
• It’s fun to earnestly imitate photos of old men in magazines while your friends photograph you though, so I won’t stop either

My holiday doesn’t start until tomorrow but the task of copying this menswear fashion shoot in the name of experimentation began today. Weirdly I find it easier to imagine myself wearing these clothes than anything I’ve seen on a woman since I started the blog, and I don’t think that can be explained away by my gender issues alone. At least with this lot you just put on a shirt and some trousers and get going. No top hats, no lace leggings – heaven.

However – shorts. I put on a fake Armani shirt left in lieu of rent (no comment) by a guy who lived on my sitting room floor for two months. This shirt manages to be papery and plasticky at the same time, and I suspect I’ll have to wear it tomorrow as well judging by the next picture on the page. Then I put on a pair of shorts to match the picture in question. The shirt covered them almost entirely, leaving me with the impression that if I went to work like that, HR might email the dress code  around yet again, pointing out that ‘beachwear is not acceptable’ but with the addendum ‘and neither is semi-nudity’, so I swapped the shorts for my trusty Lee men’s jeans rolled up as far as they will comfortably go. I’ve not bought into the loafer trend so a pair of very unmanly leopard-print ballet pumps was as close as I could get. I feel comfy today but I’ve not hit the dapper note of the silver fox in the magazine.

Holiday wardrobe

Workaday wardrobe

Conclusions:

• Menswear might be easier to put on that womenswear, but it’s probably no easier to rock
• The just-stepped-off-a-yacht look requires a nehru collar and a pair of loafers. It certainly doesn’t involve leopard print
• Clearly girls are not supposed to be copying this fashion anyway but hell, this blog is a CONTROL experiment with very strict rules

Finally, the last day in Stevie Nicksdale cometh. Without wanting to be unkind to myself, it’s an image I haven’t mastered well.

Part of the problem is having the right tools for the task. Yesterday I failed on the Hammer-pant score, today I failed on the leather-pant front. I’ve never much wanted to succeed with either anyway. My outfit today ended up as a dress with leggings underneath and a pair of ill-matching shoes, topped with a denim jacket – nothing like what I saw in the magazine but it’s the closest I could get, guv. It’s certainly nothing SN would wear at a festival.

Dreams

Nightmares

Since the outfit lacked authenticity I decided the carpet was important, and invited my esteemed and patient friend Cari on a search for the perfect pub floor. We found it quickly in a place on Praed Street and popped in for a glass of wine and a chat about size zero before the ‘shoot’ commenced. We talked about this blog and the idea of recreating outfits on a size-14 body that have been styled to hang well on a size-zero frame. I’m no size-zero militant – I think models should be available in as many shapes, sizes and colours as the clothes they wear, and if some of them are stick-thin, that’s fine by me – some women are stick thin. But it does get worrying when all you see, page after page, are generic, bony-looking girls wearing clothes that just wouldn’t look good on even a size-10 woman. Cari had some interesting thoughts to share on the matter, accepting that skinny women will always be used to show off the shape and cut of a designer’s clothes and saying that we need to dissociate our beauty ideals from that imagery rather than try to quash it altogether. Neither of us could work out how to do that easily, though. I’m wary of this blog becoming too weighted (excuse me) towards discussing the size of models versus ‘normal’ girls, as there are many writers doing a far better job of that already. I contemplated ignoring the matter altogether but decided that would be dishonest in a blog that is all about dreams, reality, the media and comparisons. I hope I’ll be able to strike a balance by dealing with the fat/thin thing when it’s really relevant and ignoring it when it’s not.  I’m already surprised at how often it’s cropped up, but then, as Cari says ‘who cares if you have to buy a pair of sandals that you think look better on thin ankles? Just style them well and have a bit of fun, they’ll look great.’ Wise words, wise lass. I’ll link to her blog as soon as she starts it.

PS Cari is a tall, curvaceous (and not euphemistically) size 12 and has a pair of cropped leather trousers she looks amazing in. Point taken.

Conclusions:

• I guess if I really wanted to nail this style, I’d just have to bite the bullet and buy myself some harem pants, a pair of leather trousers, a cropped, frilled jacket and a top hat
• I don’t really want to nail this style
• Menswear starts tomorrow, yay!

I have a demonic expression in the photo below for good reason. The shawl looked ridiculous. I took it out with me in my bag that day, but there it stayed. As for the lace leggings, I’d look like Tiffany on a pie diet if I tried that. Best stick with the old faithful black pair. I needed a long shirt to cover my Lycra’d rump. Luckily my great pal Adam not only designs menswear for FARHI by Nicole Farhi but is generous as well, so I have in my possession the most brilliant long, poplin manshirt of the sort of visible quality I’d never usually shell out for, and I put this on over everything. It’s so useful it never really gets washed. This sort of garment is the best friend of the festival goer – not a lace shawl. For starters you need to be able to move to the music without looking like you’re in a shamanic dance workshop/The Crow. Plus, shawls may look chic on narrow, birdlke shoulders but I looked like I’d just got out of the bath wrapped in a towel. I suppose a good long head of hair might balance it out a bit. I’ll splash some Baby Bio on later.

Angel

Devil

Conclusions:

• Delicate shawls for delicate shoulders; manly shirt for manly shoulders

Sadly my headwear collection doesn’t include a top hat, but I did happen to have a bowler hat casually lying around the flat. I put it on with some leggings, heels and a shirt and decided that was about as close as I could get to the first Stevie Nicks-inspired outfit this week. I took my picture, put my camera away and happily turned to the next task for the day – popping to Sainsbury’s for that night’s recipe ingredients. My heart fell. Did this mean I had to go to Sainsbury’s in a bowler hat? Bugger off – no, of course it didn’t. I’m not going to Sainsbury’s for blueberries wearing a bowler hat any more than I’m cutting my hair into a full mullet. It wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t recently invaded Topshop. At least then I’d just look mad rather than tragically try-hard. It’s OK to try hard and succeed. It’s not OK to try hard and fail abysmally, and in public, unless what you’re trying hard at is worthwhile. I took the hat off, then took my heels off for good measure and put some trainers on. The job was a good’un. Thankfully I was only popping to the shop. Imagine if I’d been at a festival, which is the Guardian‘s suggested outing for this look. I’d be knee-deep in mud in the middle of a rain-lashed field, straining to drag my high-heeled hooves over to the main stage while keeping a top hat on my head and my bottom flatteringly tucked under in my skin-tight ski-pant and silk shirt combo. Meanwhile my wellied mates would be happily drinking scrumpy and watching Magazine, just like life’s supposed to be all about. I’m off to Latitude this weekend and I’m not packing heels. Or my bowler hat. My friends will be so pleased.

Rumours

• If you wear a top hat – or a bowler hat – to the supermarket, it’s officially time to get over yourself
• If you wear heels at a festival involving fields and tents, it’s officially time to get over yourself

I don’t own a feather skirt but I did my best with what I’ve got today, and that’s what it’s all about around here.

The quiffed hairstyle doesn’t work with a short fringe so I’ve ended up resembling one of my favourite ever gals – Little My of Moominvalley. It’s always good to channel Little My because you feel feisty and tough, which mixes well with the 3 Men and a Little Lady mischievousness of a newly cut fringe. 

Where my copy really falls down today is with the high-waisted skirt, as I don’t have a matching enough one. I did some hoiking but had to reverse the process to avoid exposing my buttocks to London twice in one week. Moderation, as my mum always tells me, is the key.

Trollin'

Moomin'

I’m working on the pouting skills. And I blame Lauren Luke for the shiny face – hopefully next week’s make-up will involve powder.

Conclusion:

• The distance between the skirt’s waist and the blazer’s hem is the point. And I missed the point

Today’s outfit got me in a panic. None of my clothes fit me at the moment (something to do with clotted cream). I just cut my hair into an imitation mullet, which made the hairstyle really tricky to emulate. To be fair I made it all the way to work with my matted, badly coloured hair pinned on the front of my head in a sort of curly arrangement. But then I got to work (half an hour late because I’d been photographing the non-mullet all morning) and went straight to the loo to sort it out. If I’m going to succeed at this project I’ll need to take myself a bit less seriously I think, which is saying quite a lot.

Anyway it’s an utterly stupid outfit – the dress totally doesn’t work tucked into the jeans and the hair looks like a basin when I wear it up. The earrings are pretty close – lightning bolts instead of stars – although they’re one thing you can’t see in the photo. I’m not going to spend any more time on this post because it’s a boring one. The granny looks better than me. That’s all you need to know.

Cocktail dress

Cockfail dress

Still, the tampon machine adds a touch of wisdom and glamour.

Conclusion:

• My days of jeans-converse-t-shirt-ponytail-done are over. I need to plan these outfits the night before, or I’m for the sack
• Older ladies tend to be bonier, which makes them look chic. I don’t tend to be bonier
• You try for a mullet, you get a basin – how can this possibly work?

The first outfit of the project was pretty easy to put together from the stuff I have in my wardrobe and, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve sprained my ankle and had to rely on a walking stick topped with a large ram’s horn to get about, I wouldn’t have looked that out of the ordinary. The clashing florals are tame for Dalston and the loopy 40s-ish hairdo is par for the course. I removed the chunky brown belt instantly because the dress has a dropped waist – and I have yet to be convinced that tucking a scarf into your belt is in any way a wise thing to do. I attracted a certain amount of interest walking down the street, which I quckly realised was down to my dress having ridden up under my bag, revealing cycling-short-length Primark magic knickers and their associated bulges to the world. My camera is out of action today so I had to take these awkward photos on my phone. Pose imitation and photography skills to improve vastly, I hope.

Raise a glass

Reveal your arse

Conclusions:

• Mismatched prints – great. Add a rustic walking stick and the effect is entirely changed
• Tucking scarf into belt – why? Would Isadora Duncan have wanted this?