Tag Archive | clothes

This is why I stay out of the shops

I ventured into a shopping centre to buy some thick tights. The leg brace has pulled holes in my two pairs. I could have waited until next winter but I wanted to take two pairs to France to wear with skirts and my boots.

I only like the Italian brand, not the cheap Chinese copies that are not as smooth and silky, not as long lived. The Italian brand are about $24 each.

I went to a larger shopping centre, not my normal small, local centre as I also wanted to check out flat dressy shoes for work. I won’t be wearing high heels again this year and I can’t wear my boots for many of my work outfits. I had already looked in my local centre and they didn’t have anything that appealed to me.

I ran into a neighbour who works in my preferred department store. She offered to use her staff discount.

All this is a long-winded preface to say, needless to say, I didn’t just buy stockings.

Three tops; three pairs of shoes; a scarf; a pair of jeggings and two pairs of tights.

I might availed myself of some discounts but thank god I have been saving money; I can cover this splurge. Yet all my principles of sourcing socially and environmentally just clothing went out the window. Opps.

Here’s a peak at what I bought, minus the scarf and pants.

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I’ve been dressing like a man

I've been wearing the same pair of boots for three weeks. Usually I wear different shoes for different outfits. I do have several pairs, OK lots of pairs, of "work shoes", shoes with a slight heel, shoes with a high heel, shoes in different colours, that I only wear at work. And then there's all the flats and sandals and runners and heels I wear when not at work.

But while I have to wear my leg brace, I need shoes with support, that are comfortable, that stay on firmly, that don't have a heel.

So, no court shoes. Nothing with a kitten or small heel. Nothing with straps. No ballet flats.

These fit the bill.

The leg brace limits my clothing choice as much as footwear choice. I have to wear something that fits under or over the brace. The brace also catches on clothing and pulls threads. I don't want to wreck all my clothes so I can't wear them all.

The boots also limit clothing choice. Black tights and boots require a certain look. So no pretty and floral clothing.

Do you know what?

I haven't missed swapping shoes and clothes. It has been freeing; thinking what to wear has been simple. I rotate between two skirts and one pair of leggings. No thinking. No clothing dilemmas. No "what to wear" thoughts in the morning. No finding the right top for the desired skirt.

I know I will enjoy wearing my other clothes when I can again. But I will miss the excuse the brace gives me to wear the same three items over and over again.

A bonus: normally I wear these boots with jeans, so they are never really seen. Now with skirts, they've truely been admired. I've been asked where I bought them.

London. They were the only thing I liked and could afford at Liberties.

PS. People have questioned why I'm wearing heels. The boots don't feel like high heels to me. The heel is solid and large, and compared to my normal work shoes, don't feel high. Also I need to bend my bodgy leg so the heel takes the pressure off the ball of my foot.

Rainforest 

There’s a primordial power, majesty and spookiness about rainforests. 

The trees are so tall and so straight. I’m in awe of their age. 

Photos of trees often don’t give you the sense of the size. But how about this one with cars and Mr S for perspective?


Mr S and I went for a walk on a skywalk, a structure that takes you into the canopy. You could see through the grate to the ground. The skywalk swayed but not as much as the cantilevered one that looked down on the creek. 

In the photo below the centre tree is growing on a small rock in the creek! How can it be supported with such a small root base? It’s like it is balancing on a ball. Can you see the base right down the bottom middle of the photo? The second photo gives a closer view of the tree balancing on a ball! 


A second walk through another section of rainforest was in order. I love the shapes of the strangler figs, the strange growth on trees, the burnt out sections of trees and the enormity of trees. 

The roots formed a natural sand pit or wading pool

The roots always seem too shallow to support a massive tree


I was on the hunt to see a platypus in the wild. The sign said the area was restricted to protect the platypuses. But obviously platypuses don’t read and didn’t know they were meant to be there. We saw none in the waterhole even though it was just before sunset. 


Let me tell you, a rainforest at dusk is a spooky place. The rustling in the lead cover by unseen things, the strange squawking. We hightailed it out before it was totally dark and headed to view the sunset over the caldera.   


It’s a magical place. The rich volcanic soil (that you can see in the photos with the horses) makes the mountain perfect for gardeners. My mother’s garden grows wild in a tame way. (Wish my garden would grow the tame way! Lol) 


It’s a perfect spot to read, and snooze, and day dream, and chat, and mindlessly surf the Internet, and watch the birds in and around the bird feeder. It’s strange how quickly the days pass when you are relaxing and going at a much slower pace

(Oh and apropos of nothing to do with rainforests, I bought some Queensland-y clothes. Bright and light and colourful. As two items had tiny holes in them, I got them free!!! Apologies for my poor styling. I do these clothes no justice. The one with the pink fringe is a shawl-like open cloak-y thing. So unlike me. But I will waft around wearing it. The sequinned top is so me. I know, I know. I am meant to be decluttering and saving for my year off and my travel and my renos.)

We fade to grey

I have a higher standard of “worn out” for items that are worn in public than for those I wear at home, and under the covers of my bed sheets. I’m sure you’re happy to read that, considering my last post. 

I just popped this coat in the op shop bag. 


I really like it and am sad it no longer meets my standards. I’ve tried to ignore that the white is not white. It has become grey from washing with the black. Poor dying chemicals? Anyway without the crisp contrast, I just feel schlompy. Others mightn’t notice it. But there you go. I do. 

I’ve put it on several times, felt not quite right and put it back in the wardrobe for another time, telling myself I am just being picky. Each time has been the same. It’s good. Just not good enough. 

(And the lining is slightly ripped along the back seam. But that wouldn’t bother me, cause it doesn’t affect the wearing or look.)

It’s not like I am going to be cold. I have a thing for coats. Five or six or so more in my wardrobe. But you see, each is unique and each one fits a purpose, fits different outfits. 

Goodbye my zebra like coat. I hope you make someone else happy. 

Do you have a thing about the whiteness of white?

Fashion plate

I feel I must immediately counter the impression given by my Struggle Street trackie dacks in an earlier post. After all, this blog is about my journey to gorgeousness, and those pants definitely don’t even have an economy class ticket for that journey. 

I am not one who follows fashion and buys what is “on trend”, so in that respect fashion plate may be inaccurate as a title. 

However, I do like beautiful clothes and buy quite regularly. I like to look well-put-together, classic, feminine. (Which may make it all the more difficult to comprehend my need to hang onto my worn trackie dacks?)

Ages ago I started posting a stocktake on my dresses. I lost interest as I was taking photos of the dresses when I wore them for real. Time passes and yadda, yadda, yadda. 

So here’s some recent images for you. 

Daytime weekend dressing up. A spring wrap dress with a flattering neck line.c(I have had this dress for about four years. Haven’t worn it much but liking it again so am thinking this will be this year’s spring, dress-up dress.)  A rich navy blue. What you can’t see is the leopard print on the shoes match my sunnies. And I have two bluish-green bangles that tone in with the handbag, which unfortunately I am holding backwards so you don’t see the detail. 

  

Casual wear. And a colourful print top which lightens up jeans. The top is a bit twisted as I am up close with a friend. The clasp thingie (repurposed from a dead handbag) sits on my hip. Those (as in Fiona and Sarah) who are aware of the colour in clothing divide will understand when I say I bought the pink top in Queensland. 

 

Middle aged hip. And my current favourite edgey look: black leather jacket with black tights and back ankle boots, glammed up with a sequinned top. 

  
For those who like detail the black leather jacket is Muubaa, sourced cheap from The Outnet when the Aussie dollar was good for online bargain hunters.  The jacket is the softest and lightest leather. I know I’ve said it before but it is worth repeating. 

  
The boots are Italian, bought at Liberties. (Jet-setter, that I am. OK, the only pair I could afford in the shoe department.) 

  
And the tights? 19 years old. How can I be so precise? Cause I bought them when on maternity leave with my youngest. Made in Australia with such thick material.  I wear them in winter as thermals when skiing. (They don’t make clothes like that anymore, the old lady moans.) Oh, you weren’t amazed at how long they’ve lasted, but expressing concern at my clothes hoarding tendancies. Well, we know I am trying to address that. 

But there you have it. Not all trackie dacks and uggies. 

  
 

Wear it out

I have a pair of tracksuit pants that make me look like an extra from Struggle Street.

They are stretched and  baggy; the waist elastic is gone, the seams worn, with extra holes just about to appear in the knees and backside. 

I did not buy them. They were a “gift” from my mother – a hand-me-down as they didn’t fit her anymore. 

Yet I struggle to let them go. 

I never wore them in public. And still don’t, you’ll be pleased to know. They have been PJs. So who cares about the holes? A friend says I should have more self-care and self-respect and wear nice things at night. 

It is the frugal and green me that wants things to be used to death. 

Seems like we all have different definitions as to what constitutes death for clothes. 

 

Worn knee of trackie dacks

 
Should I perservere and wear them until there are actual holes in the backside? Or should I release them?

BTW: 42 days of not buying clothes. 

Stockings/Tights

I wear them for work. 

By stockings I mean tights. No straps and suspenders. But even without all that palaver and itchy, pokey things, I still find them uncomfortable. Some more than others. (BTW I use tights to mean the thick ones that are opaque and warmer.)

 

Not a Halloween decoration. My stockings/tights.

 
Anyway now we’ve got that cleared up, here’s the thing. I am not a fan of nylon on nylon. My skin cringes at the thought. Some stockings I can wear all day, no probs. but when I get home I have some had enough. And I can’t wait to rip the stockings off. Sometimes the nylon lining of a skirt against the stockings sends me barmy. And I struggle through the day.  Other stockings I feel the horrid sensation from the start. 

Last week I had one of those days. I couldn’t stand the feel of the particular stockings I had on. I was all non-ladylike and whipped them off in my second-in-charge’s office. 

The good thing about having a blog is (not that I get to reveal how strangely I behave) but I can keep a record of which ones not to buy again. 

Buying stockings is like buying wine. I forget the names of the ones I like or dislike and get the two mixed up and end up buying the ones I don’t like cause the name is familiar. So for the record here’s my reminder:

Do not buy Voodoo stockings again. Ever. 

I will keep this pair in my stocking drawer for emergencies. (How can I have a stocking emergency? With very white legs, in winter it looks wrong to have bare legs and it is an emergency when I find I have no stockings without ladders.)

Anyone else have strange touch hypersensitivity?