Looking good in casual clothes

You’ve probably gathered from previous posts that I’m not into casual dressing. But there is one item of casual clothing I couldn’t do without. Yes, you’ve got it – it’s jeans.

The term jeans is generally used to describe blue jeans, a particular type of trousers which were invented by Jacob W. Davis and Levi Strauss in 1873. Although they were patented by Levi Strauss, various garments made of blue denim had been in use for many years before jeans. (The fabric, a kind of twilled cotton, is generally thought to have originated in Genoa, Italy.) These garments were originally designed for workers and sailors, because denim is so hard-wearing, and jeans became popular with cowboys in America for the same reason. They really took off in the 1950s, and now jeans are one of the most common items of clothing, world-wide. Everyone wears them – even I!

Jeans are durable. They can withstand years of wear and many washes. Yet they are pliable enough to be comfortable, and that’s why they are a staple in many wardrobes. I like the feel of denim – particularly denim that has been washed many times so that it’s beautifully soft.

The bad thing about jeans is that it’s hard to find a pair that fits exactly, even these days when so many of them have a stretch fabric added to the cotton. Women like jeans to fit closely, to hug thighs without strangling them, to fit at the waist and to taper nicely to the ankle. Some years I find a pair of jeans that fits well, but then fashion dictates a change in style and I have to try numerous pairs to discover the perfect fit all over again.

My problem is a common one. I have a small waist, but although my legs are slim they are not skinny, and jeans often seem to be made with catwalk models in mind. Jeans that fit my legs always gape hugely at the waist. I find it easier to get jeans that fit overseas than here in Australia, so I usually only shop for them when I’m in the US, or South America. However, if you live in Melbourne, there is a solution. There’s a shop called Dejour Jeans in Brunswick, where you can get jeans tailored to your specifications, and even take in your favourite pair to be copied. It isn’t expensive either, but it does mean waiting some time in a queue, as lots of people have cottoned on to this excellent idea.

The great thing about jeans is that you can dress them up or down. I work in a place with a dress policy that bans casual wear. Yet our secretary wears jeans from time to time. No one even blinks, because she looks smarter than everyone else in their corporate attire. She has the knack of combining them with an elegant blouse and a blazer to smarten them up. And she always wears heels.

The easiest way to dress up a pair of jeans is to team them with heels. They make your legs look longer and they work with skinny jeans, or wide legs that touch the tops of your shoes. Have you noticed that jeans are often too long when you buy them? That’s because no two women are exactly alike in size, and some women will have longer legs but still wear the same size as a woman with shorter legs. It’s easier to cut or hem a pair of jeans than it is to add a piece of material. I always have a pair of jeans in my wardrobe that are a bit too long, and I only wear them with heels.  

I love wearing jeans with the Megan shoe. It seems to have just the right shape to suit the kind of jeans I like, and the colours look gorgeous with denim. Try them!

Looking good at home

January is a holiday period for many, and it’s around this time when a lot of people tend to slop around the house in their scruffiest clothes – partly because they want to hide the Christmas rolls, and partly because they’re on holiday and don’t want to make an effort.

            I have to admit I’ve always had a problem with the notion of having one of type of look for work, and a completely different (much daggier) look for home. Why should we make less effort for the people we care about the most?

            Sure, you can argue that they will love us, no matter how we look. But is that really fair? If we’d be ashamed to go out to the shops in our old tracksuit leggings, why should our partners or children see us in them?

            I’ll come straight out and say it. I think we should look nice at home. But there’s no reason why we can’t make it a comfy nice!

            So, in summer, I can usually be found in my house wearing an attractive, cotton dress (usually accompanied by a cardigan, as I live in Melbourne). For me, dresses are the most comfortable garment available. You can choose your own style but, with so many stretch fabrics around these days, you can even do the sexy look and be comfortable.

            But perhaps an even more important staple in your wardrobe is a nice pair of pyjamas. There’s a scene in the movie Coco Before Chanel, where Boy Capel finds Coco lying on a lounge in her pyjamas, reading a book. ‘You are very elegant,’ he tells her, and it’s true. Her silk pyjamas are flattering.

            I always make sure I have a nice pair of pyjamas (or two) to swan around the house in, morning and evening – silk or cotton is best and they shouldn’t be too fitted. If I’m not wearing slippers, I’ll put on a pair of Maria Peron loafers – preferably the flat Annikas, because they are the perfect casual summer shoe.

            You don't need to be a scruff for the people you live with this summer. Honestly, you can be elegant and comfortable at the same time. You just have to find the right pair of PJs. 

Breaking out of the casual mould

Last weekend I was in the Melbourne city centre, catching up with some essential shopping. As I walked the streets, and the department stores, observing everyone around me, I couldn’t help feeling depressed by the way most people dress now.

The importance of being comfortable has led to a more casual look in the last two decades. That’s understandable. But why can’t we be comfortable and look nice? Or at least interesting?

Everywhere my eyes drifted, I saw hoodies, leggings, track suit pants, all either too tight or else baggy and shapeless, and mostly in drab colours.

I don’t believe it’s just comfort that has led to this. Fashion, that inexorable dictator, is responsible, because it always exploits a trend and keeps it going way too long.  

Some people think it’s harder to dress well in winter. They say, ‘I just want to be comfortable and warm.’

But why can’t they wear something flattering and comfortable, teamed with a good coat? One good woollen coat will last ten years, and is a far better investment than a cotton hoodie, or a polyester puffer jacket.

Fashion also dictates colour, and so often people dress in dull colours in winter. On a grey day in Melbourne it would be so nice to see more orange, or red, and some bold or interesting patterns.

They say fashion keeps coming around. It’s about time we took on some tips from the 1960s. The clothes then were so original, distinctive and, above all, fun!

We could try mixing colours and patterns, like this:

Or wear a simple dress with coloured stockings, or a bold jacket like this:

And you can’t go wrong with black and white.

So many options!

Please, style-conscious ladies out there, let’s rebel against this war on beauty, and start wearing more flattering outfits, more colour and more unique designs. The shapeless comfort trend has gone on long enough. 

The eyes have it

It’s said that the eyes are the window to the soul. They can certainly say a lot about a person – or to a person. A long look from a complete stranger can haunt one for years. Lovers stare into each other’s eyes over a dinner table, in almost the same way that a young baby stares fixedly into the eyes of its mother. It’s as though they are trying to unlock every secret.

I’m sure many of you have experienced being in the powder room in a hotel or a restaurant, engaged in the simple act of brushing your hair or touching up your lipstick, and another woman approaches the sink and you catch her eye and you can see her thinking, ‘She looks beautiful.’ It’s such a lovely moment. Sometimes I think those flashes of communication with a stranger have more meaning than the compliments offered you by friends. Because they don’t owe you anything. There is none of the complicated give and take that comes with friendship. It’s simply the frank acknowledgement of another human being they like the look of.

I’ve been thinking about how we look at the way someone is dressed. For me it very often starts with the shoes. If I pass someone wearing distinctive shoes in the street, I can’t help looking at the rest of her outfit and finally her face. Sometimes I’m disappointed, sometimes I’m surprised, sometimes I’m thrilled all through. Shoes can tell you a lot about a person. They might be particularly beautiful shoes, or unusual in some way. I also love to see shoes well cared for.

Sometimes the person I’m examining catches my eye. That’s where you have to be careful. It’s fine to pay someone a compliment with your eyes, it’s not so fine to show disapproval. Instinctively I have a smile ready, in case I’m caught out.

I think we are losing the ability to communicate with others with our eyes. We all lead increasingly busy lives, rushing from one thing to another, barely remembering to communicate with the person serving us in a shop, let alone with strangers on the street. And most of us have had experiences when people have been unreasonably upset because we looked at them. People who are ill, depressed or angry will often misinterpret a glance. But they are in a minority. We shouldn’t let them put us off.

I love to see the way children look at people. Most of us will hurry past a busker, but a child will often stop and study him with intense curiosity, or bob clumsily along to his music. And the busker will smile at the child, and double his efforts. It’s a beautiful thing, that moment of acknowledgement.

Let’s not lose the art of communicating with our eyes, especially to compliment. After all, a few glances of acknowledgment and approval every week can’t hurt us. We won’t miss them, and they might make someone’s day. 

The Art of Grace

I have just finished reading a book called The Art of Grace, by Sarah L. Kaufman, critic and senior arts writer of the Washington Post.

Kaufman speaks of two kinds of grace – the grace of movement, or poise, and grace of manner, which we generally know as graciousness. She says that the art of grace has been important to us for a thousand years, being a quality valued by the ancient Greeks. Writing in sixteenth-century Florence, the poet and archbishop Giovanni Della Casa equated grace with fine craftsmanship. In the 1930s it was a habitual practice that enhanced the whole person.

Kaufman talks a lot about the actor Cary Grant being the epitome of grace. Grant was known for his ease of movement (no doubt due to his early training as an acrobat and stage performer). He was also famous for his kindness in putting other less celebrated people at their ease in unfamiliar situations.

Kaufman laments that grace is a quality that is now virtually lost. These days there is much more emphasis on putting ourselves first, on fulfilling our own dreams, rather than being considerate of other people.

The book has made me ponder this mystery of grace, and I’ve been going through all the people I know in my head, trying to decide whether they have grace. It’s true that it’s relatively rare to find both grace of movement and grace of manner in one person. They generally tend to have one or the other.

I think the way we look is of paramount importance. If you’re meeting another person, it’s not very nice for them if you turn up wearing your old tracksuit. It’s not hard to present yourself well, so why wouldn’t you? 

That brings me to the other kind of grace - that of manners, or graciousness. Many of the women I know and most admire have poise. They are compassionate and kind, but I don’t think they would always hide their true feelings just to make someone else feel comfortable, and I think they are right. If you see people behaving badly, shouldn’t you tell them, rather than let them get away with it?

This in turn has made me wonder – is graciousness really something that I would want to see fully restored? It’s something that women in particular were supposed to cultivate. But was it just another way of keeping them quiet?

Still, I love the idea of being gracious. I think it’s noble to be considerate and thoughtful of others, unless by being so you compromise your own values. I’d like to think you can combine graciousness with speaking out when it really matters.

Kaufman says we can cultivate grace, and I’m determined to work on it. I may never reach the lofty standards of Audrey Hepburn, or Cary Grant, but every bit of polish helps, don’t you think?

Standing out

Sometimes, as women get older, they tend to be more individual in their dress. They wear brighter colours and prefer patterned fabrics over plain. Some women, like the inimitable Lee Lin Chin, become noted for their exotic clothes.

My question is, why do we wait so long to wear what we like?

Most of us have experienced falling in love with a dress that’s just a bit daring, or strikingly different. Sometimes we even buy it, but it often remains in our wardrobe. And eventually ends up in the thrift shop.

Why? Because we lack the courage to stand out from the crowd. We’re happy to look under-dressed in our active wear, because everyone else is, but we’re afraid to look beautiful in a scarlet silk blouse on our own.

Older women seem to have more confidence, and dare to be different. Some of them even voice the following mantra, “I’m too old to care what people think anymore. I’ll wear what I like.”

A few years ago I bought a fantastic skirt in a second-hand shop. It’s made of small pieces of silk, pink, cream, blue and latte-coloured, sewn in rows on an underskirt so that they flutter in the breeze. The previous owner had obviously never worn it. The original price tag was still attached to the skirt. It cost me just five dollars, and I wore it to work the next day with joy.

One of my colleagues told me I looked like Big Bird (a larger-than-life character from a children’s show). There. That’s the reaction that we’re anticipating, and that terrifies us. I looked him straight in the eye, smiled my sweetest, and said, ‘You’ve got that all wrong, Rob. Big bird is yellow. But if you’re just saying I look like a bird, with pink and brown feathers, then I’m taking that as a compliment. Birds are beautiful. Thank you so much.’ And in my head, I added, ‘As though I care what you think. You fashion guru you, in your grey pants that don’t fit, and shirt that used to be white once.’

Chanel said, “In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.” So this month, get out that item you bought but haven’t been brave enough to wear and don it with pride. You won’t be alone. 

The courageous act

It’s a peculiar thing, but you need a lot of courage to withstand public opinion in regard to fashion.

If you wear something slightly unusual you must be prepared to put up with stares and unsolicited comments – sometimes even ridicule.

Many people are intolerant of anything that deviates too much from the common. Few would take a second look at a woman with purple hair, or crude tattoos, or thick black eye-make up. We’ve all seen those things many times.

But I get stared at every time I walk down a public street. This is not because I’m uncommonly beautiful, or uncommonly ugly. It’s because I wear gloves.

I’ve worn gloves outdoors for many, many years. I’m a pianist, and all pianists are careful of their hands. When I was a young piano student, I had a family friend who had to have carcinomas cut off his hands. He was fond of gardening and spent quite a lot of time in the sun.

I also like the outdoors, and I was determined that would not happen to me. I tried wearing sunscreen on my hands, but I wash my paws so frequently I was forever having to re-apply the cream, and it was making my hands so dry. So then I thought of wearing gloves. I had to search in second-hand shops for them, but I found some.

At first I felt self-conscious, but very soon the gloves just became part of my identity. I’ve always liked old-fashioned clothes anyway, so the gloves often seemed to complement my outfits, rather than distract from them.

My friends are used to this eccentric habit of mine. But ‘Why are you wearing those?’ is still the first question a new acquaintance asks me. It always makes me giggle to myself, as do the stares in the street. Those people probably think I’ve got dreadful scars to hide – or perhaps that I’m concealing elephantiasis underneath my white gloves.

It puzzles me too. Everyone in Australia is aware of the dangers of melanomas. More and more people are wearing hats. Why aren’t more people imitating our sensible forebears and wearing gloves?

Apart from the protection they offer, they look elegant. I think so anyway. I love matching gloves to my outfits. I wear leather gloves in winter and white or beige cotton gloves in summer.

And I don’t let the stares, or the occasional jibe bother me. After all, as Chanel said, “The most courageous act is to think for yourself.”

Signature look

Lots of women follow fashion, but there are some women who keep up with trends and yet have their own individual style.

I’m sure you know a few – they’re the ones who look just right at every event, whether it’s casual or dressy. And you can recognise them from a distance.

I think the secret is to have a signature piece, or a signature style. If it’s a particular look, it might be something like high-waisted skirts with a narrow belt. A signature piece might range from wearing an unusual type of jewellery, to sporting a hat.

I have a friend who has her own look. She’ll wear clothes of stylish cut, but there is always something unique about her outfits. She will mix prints with stripes, and add distinctive accessories to a corporate look when she is at work. Her thick blonde hair is always styled just enough to suggest movie star glamour, without being try-hard.

I once knew a woman whose trademark was patterned stockings. She had numerous pairs of them, all different designs. It’s a great idea, because you don’t need many clothes to bring a new look to each day.

All the famous fashion icons have their signature trademark. In Roman Holiday, Audrey Hepburn made the 50s look her own by adding a wide belt to the swing skirt. Millions of women adopted that look. Audrey had an uncanny eye for style, and she instinctively knew that the belt outlined her tiny waist, making her gamine look more appealing.

My signature is striking shoes. I love to wear simple, classic clothes with a pair of vividly coloured shoes.

What’s your signature look? 

Summer white

White has traditionally been a colour people wear in summer. It’s often said that it’s the best choice, as white reflects the sunlight and helps to keep your body cool.

            Now scientists are saying that actually isn’t true, and white clothing doesn’t help keep the sun off any more than black clothing. However, as scientists seem to change their minds about such things every few years, it’s quite possible they will revert to the popular theory by 2018.

            In any case, I’ve believed for so long that white is cooler, I feel cooler wearing white. Such is the power of the mind. There are also so many related, cooling images, like swans gliding around in a pond. 

            I love wearing white in summer. My favourite option is a dress that has some room in the skirt, like the one shown below. This allows for air circulation. I also like to wear a simple white shirt, or T shirt, with a colourful skirt. Finished with a white hat, it’s a perfect outfit for a summer afternoon.

            Some women steer clear of white because they say it shows the dirt. That’s true, but if you stick with white cotton or silk, it’s also really easy to clean. You can spot-clean with soda water for those café spills, and soak in a good stain remover if you’ve really done some damage.

            White is universally elegant, and a touch of black seems to make it more so. Think of Audrey Hepburn in the famous racing scene in My Fair Lady (see above). She is the epitome of elegance. Although I’m not sure I’d want to carry quite that much weight around on my head!

New Year - Fresh Start

The idea of spring-cleaning has been around a long time, but I always choose to do my big clean just after the New Year. It seems appropriate somehow – it’s good to start a fresh year with less clutter.

My wardrobe is one of the things that gets a major clear-out, and it is no easy task. I have a lot of beautiful clothes and shoes, and I always find it hard to cull them.

I’ve read so many advice columns on the matter, but they don’t help me much. You know that thing they always say? If you haven’t worn it for a year or two, get rid of it! It doesn’t work for me. I adore certain garments in my wardrobe, wear them over and over, then suddenly tire of them and they remain unnoticed for three years, only to become favourites again.

Fashion is cyclical, and so is my love for my clothes. Call it fickle if you like.

Now when I’m cleaning out my wardrobe, I consider five things.

Does it really fit?

You know that jacket you bought, because it’s SO beautiful, and a little bit different? And it fits perfectly at the waist, so never mind that you know it’s too big in the shoulders? And two years later it’s still sitting in your wardrobe, unworn? If you know a good dressmaker, get it altered so that it fits perfectly, or get rid of it! Same with shoes. If they pinch at the toes or give you blisters, even after several wears, throw them out!

Is it too impractical?

I’ve made the mistake of buying pencil skirts that I rarely wore. (They looked good on me, but I like being able to move my legs when I walk, so I’d always choose something else from my wardrobe.) Perhaps you’ve done the same? If possible, get a split put in them or get rid of them. I’ve also bought shoes that looked amazing, but the heels were just too high. It was a painful decision but I got rid of them, because the pain in my back was worse.

Is it looking too worn and daggy?

Have you ever kept a favourite cardigan in your drawer for ages without wearing it, because it’s pilled, and has a hole in the armpit? That’s misguided sentiment. Take a photo of it to remember the good times and move on.

Do I have something else that does the same job?

I kept a cream skirt for a long time, because I love cream. However, I just didn’t wear it because it didn’t quite fit and was impossible to alter. I wore white skirts instead. So I’ve chucked that cream one at last, and now I have space in my wardrobe for that perfect cream skirt when I see it.

Do I feel good in it?

All of us have a dress or outfit that makes us feel like a million dollars. So why do we hold on to all those clothes that don’t make us feel good? That are a bit dowdy, or too tight, or just not our colour? If you’ve never received a compliment from a trusted friend about an outfit, it’s probably not right. I always think you learn more from what people don’t say than from what they do.

This season I threw out a dress that had been taking up space in my wardrobe for five years. I wore it once, even though it fitted me perfectly and looked great. The problem was that it only looked great for two minutes. It was made out of a peculiar fabric that wrinkled horribly when I sat down. It was only good for a cocktail party where it’s standing only, and you get to walk to it, and I’ve never been to one of those. I hate looking as though I’ve slept in my clothes. So, goodbye dress! It was nice knowing you for two minutes.

Next time you’re clearing out your wardrobe, see if these pointers work for you. Keep your most beautiful and suitable things, and be a star in your own clothes this year!

Places of enchantment

One of the most wonderful things about travelling is the opportunity it gives you to admire architecture. I particularly love visiting parts of the world where I can see older buildings. In Australia we don’t have the castles and palaces that populate Europe – relics of a time when buildings were made to last, and beauty was more evident because artisans were cheap and plentiful.

Some time ago I was in Sevilla for a week. That beautiful Spanish city has many stunning buildings, but surely one of the most romantic has to be the Real Alcázar (also known as the Palacio Real). It is a massive compound that has developed over centuries, beginning in 1161 during the Moorish dynasty, expanded in 1364 in the Mudéjar style, after the Christian reconquest of Spain, and added to by many monarchs since. It is the oldest palace in the world that is still actively used by a Royal family.  

There is something enchanting about the spacious rooms, exquisitely decorative even without the historically illuminating tapestries. The palace gardens are magnificent, and when you walk down into the underground baths and cisterns you feel as though you have to hold your breath. If it wasn’t for all the tourists in their shorts and thongs, you could swear that you had stepped back in time.

I’m not saying that everyone should visit an ancient castle in mediaeval dress, but I always like to feel in tune with my surroundings. Now, looking back, I’m so glad I wore a romantic, white frock when I visited the Palacio Real. As well as being the coolest and most comfortable option for a very hot summer’s day, it looks nice in the photographs. Surely, in our age of frenzied selfie-taking, that should be a consideration of paramount importance?

Dressing for summer that isn't a summer

Some climates are really hard to dress for, and there can’t be many places in the world more challenging for your wardrobe choice than Melbourne in summer.

Our wonderful city is famous for its “three seasons in a day”. You can go out in the morning in a summer dress because the sun is shining, but by afternoon clouds will have come from nowhere, the temperature has plummeted and it’s cold. This is particularly noticeable in the city, where the tall buildings create wind tunnels, and the breeze cuts through clothing like a scimitar.  

If you’re like me, you’re no longer happy to suffer for fashion, so what can you wear that is going to cover all bases? Well, everyone knows about layering, but to make sure I’m never too hot or too cold, I think more carefully about fabric.

Normally, silk is my favourite material, but on a very warm day silk will encourage you to perspire freely, and it shows (eek!) so in summer I turn to cotton dresses like the ones pictured below.

Cotton definitely won’t stand up to a Melbourne evening, so if I’m going out I’ll take a light jacket or blazer. My favourite is a russet brown coat, which is actually a raincoat as well, so very useful for those sudden showers. It folds up quite small, so I can put it in a bag. But even this won’t always be enough, so my secret addition is a cashmere cardigan. Cashmere is so warm, and it’s light. You can stuff a cardigan in your handbag and pull it out only when necessary. It’s also very useful for those restaurants or theatres with over-enthusiastic air-conditioning.

The other important consideration is shoes. I generally prefer open-toed shoes in summer, like the Karen sandal, or the Annika shoe. Both of these styles will also stand up to a sudden weather change, or a shower. But if there is no chance of rain, I love to wear the Megan in pink or yellow. There is nothing like a splash of colour to make any day feel like a holiday. Bring on summer! 

Fashion regret

Many women I know have made purchases that were extravagant, often involving a certain amount of deception. Some have hidden items of clothing from their partners for a period of time, or told him the item was on sale, naming a price half that of the true one.

I’m no exception. I’ve occasionally made purchases that have brought with them more than a little guilt. But I’ve learned something most peculiar about these purchase transgressions.

It’s the things I haven’t bought that I most regret, not the things I have, costly or not.

It seems that time reconciles me to dollars I will never see again, but the beautiful item of clothing, or ravishing pair of shoes, that was once within my reach, but that I didn’t buy, haunts me forever.

There have been a few such episodes in my past, but the one that still really bothers me is a certain coat.

I was in Buenos Aires with a girlfriend. We were walking in the beautiful Recoleta area when I saw THE COAT in a boutique window. It’s hard to describe that coat, and the affect it had on me. Suffice to say it was a piece that combined unique style with quality and classic chic. It was something I knew I would never see again.

However, I was at the beginning of a long sojourn that was to take me from South America to Europe. I was thinking about Budget (horrible word) and, though I oscillated for a few days, I eventually made the painful decision not to purchase the coat.

Of course my friend urged me to the opposite choice, told me in no uncertain terms that I would regret it, and still brings the matter up every now and again, with mischievous glee.

Because I have to admit that coat still haunts me seven years later, especially when I acquire a pair of shoes that would have complemented it perfectly, like the pink Megan shoe below, or even the yellow one.

I won’t make that mistake again. There should be no price on beauty, when it’s something you know you will treasure forever. 

Serendipity

One of the things I love about travelling is finding beautiful pieces to add to my wardrobe.

I don’t spend too much time shopping with intention on a trip. But I love to go for long walks in new places, and that means I stumble across great finds.

I do have two rules I stick by these days. One is to consider quality. The other is not to binge-buy. It’s too easy to end up with luggage problems, and a number of garments I will never wear again. (Being on holiday can play havoc with good sense.)

This dress is a result of serendipity. I was on holiday in Paris, it was my last day and I was having one last walk when I saw the dress in a window. I fell instantly in love.

It wasn’t cheap, but it ticked all the compulsory boxes. 1. I had nothing like it in my wardrobe, yet it’s my style. 2. I love the colour. 3. It’s made of silk.

Silk is always worthwhile. Good quality silk lasts, and is not as delicate as a lot of people think. Also, you can wash most silk by hand, which I prefer to dry-cleaning. (Dry-cleaning is very hard on your clothes.) You do have to be careful with patterned fabrics, and also if the silk is mixed with a synthetic fabric as the latter will often shrink.

This dress has a silk lining, which is an added bonus. I always look for silk or cotton linings. They feel so nice next to the skin and breathe better than synthetics.

But perhaps what I love best about these travel finds is the discovery that they complement other things in my wardrobe. For example, the red Alice shoe from the María Perón range looks as though it’s made to go with this silk dress. It’s the same red, and the cream contrast exactly matches the polka dots. Serendipity is a wonderful thing. 

Travelling light with style

How many of you have known the following two scenarios when you are travelling?

1.     Arriving home and feeling foolish because you’ve only worn a third of the clothes in your suitcase.

2.     Being invited out to dinner half way through your trip and going, “Damn! I knew I should have brought that sexy dress!”

And how many times have you read articles in women’s magazines about these dilemmas? Their suggestions are often either impractical or governed by the latest fashion “must have”. Why would you take a pair of platform espadrilles on an overseas holiday? That’s my question. They are perfect for sitting in a hotel lobby with a drink in your hand, but if you want to go on a little sight-seeing jaunt you’d have to change into something else, or risk serious ankle injury.

Packing for a holiday or a business trip is fraught with problems, and only people who travel a lot seem to get it right.

My secret is to bring only clothes that work together, and to make sure that what I wear on the aeroplane is useful for the whole trip.

A wise friend once told me that you should never dress down for a flight. You never know whom you might meet. Also, while they are checking you in, airline staff are checking you out! You are more likely to get an upgrade if you present well.

This rule suits me perfectly, as I loathe looking daggy. I don’t own a tracksuit. I have a pair of yoga pants, but I leave them at home when I’m travelling. I still practise yoga, but my silk pyjamas double up as my hotel room active wear – lighter in my suitcase, and far prettier.

My aeroplane outfit is carefully considered. Black tailored pants, with some stretch in them so they are comfortable. Black cotton T shirt worn under a black, fine wool polo-neck skivvy. I bring a light, down jacket in my hand luggage for when we reach altitude. (You will notice that’s a lot of black. I rarely wear all black, but it’s useful on a plane, in case of spillages, and I can mix all the garments with other colourful pieces later, and roll the pants up if I’m going to a summer climate.) My final addition is a pair of María Perón loafers in navy. No high heels on a long flight for me thank you very much! I want to be able to walk in those precious half hours between flights, and stuffing swollen feet into high heels is not my idea of fun.

So that leaves my suitcase. My first piece of advice is to invest in a good suitcase – preferably one of those really light ones you can lift with one finger before you put anything in it. You will never regret it, I promise you.

In my suitcase I take the following: 1 pair jeans, 1 light jacket (if I’m travelling to a winter climate I take an overcoat on the plane instead), 1 light dress, 1 evening dress, 1 skirt, 1 cardigan (either pink or black), 1 pair shorts (if summer), 1 white shirt, 1 white T shirt, 2 silk blouses (one plain, one print), silk pyjamas, underwear, socks, stockings, 1 hat that doesn’t mind being squashed.

The tricky bit is making sure everything goes with everything else. For example, I make sure that at least one of the blouses can be worn under the black polo-neck. There should be no frills that stick out to look peculiar, so I bring a simple silk blouse, plain or print.

I like the shirt look too, so my other blouse will have a pussy bow tie, or if I’m going to winter I’ll bring a button-up that I can wear with a cardigan and coat.

The dresses I take will also depend a little on the climate I’m going to. I love colour, so I often bring the flower print dress shown below when I’m travelling. It’s a stretch fabric, perfect for packing, and goes with so many colours. It’s versatile too, as I can wear it during the day, but make it work for evening with a sensational pair of shoes. If I’m going to a summer climate, I’m more likely to take something like the sleeveless silk number shown.

Lastly, and most importantly, there is the footwear decision and, mamma mia, have I got that wrong numerous times! I’ve been known to travel with eight pairs of shoes in my luggage – only two of which got worn.

Now I travel with two or three pairs of shoes in my suitcase (well, four, if you count my tango shoes, but that won’t apply to most of you). I take one pair of heels (at the moment I’m favouring Kathy in beige or Megan in pink from the Maria Peron range), 1 pair of day shoes that I can stand in (like the Annika or Alice shoe) plus 1 pair of walking sandals (or boots if I’m going to winter). Don’t forget I’ve also got my loafers.

Between these I have something for sight-seeing, that little trip down to the shops or a café, and something for that night out or special luncheon. Travelling this light means I can either take a small suit-case, or have plenty of space for international travel purchases. How marvellous is that?

Colour blocking

Many women shy away from colour blocking, but I love it. Like most fashions it does come around from time to time. Women will be daring enough to try it in solidarity, but I’d rather not wait till it comes back into fashion again. Colour blocking tends to be a pretty regular addition to my look. Not every day of course, but at least once every couple of weeks.  

Colour blocking is a method of wearing multiple solid colours in an outfit, and generally refers to when you do it with brighter colours, not standards. (After all, women are colour blocking with black and white all the time!)

You can employ colour blocking by wearing the same colour in several hues, or by deliberately juxtaposing contrasting colours.

I love wearing green with blue, and red or orange with pink. Perhaps it’s the rebel in me. Many women around my age can probably remember their mothers telling them that wearing pink with red is a fashion crime, and blue with green even worse.

I’ve never been able to understand that. After all, who doesn’t love looking up at a cerulean blue sky through the green leaves of a tree? The two colours go perfectly together.

I like wearing just about any shade of green with blue, but I particularly like the effect below. The brightness of the green really stands out against navy blue, and then the yellow shoes are an added contrast. If the skirt was a bright blue, then you might not notice the shoes as much.

But I also think the orange outfit works well. All three colours are strong, but they are quite close in the spectrum, so they complement, rather than fight each other. This look makes me think of a garden of roses. How can you go wrong with that?

Elegance

Now here is a look that you would see me in much more often. I love dresses like this – fitted top and gored skirt. This one is particularly lovely, because the fabric is quite heavy, so it has a great swirl when I walk or turn. There is something very attractive about movement in clothes if they follow your own line.

This look is easy to wear because it goes both with heeled and with flat shoes, but I particularly like it with classic round-toed pumps, like the Megan shown here, or a sensational evening shoe, like the gold Kathy. The first is perfect for a garden party or the races, while the second is more suitable for the theatre or an evening do.

I like to tie the outfit together with a belt to match the shoes, but it would be just as attractive with the shoes as a colour feature by themselves. I remember seeing a French film a long time ago, and in one scene the leading actress wore a black dress, black stockings and black jacket, but she had striking red shoes on. I’ve never forgotten that scene. 

The dramatic entrance

This is a look that’s easy to achieve with the Kathy shoe from the María Perón range. Any kind of clinging dress will do, and this shoe in beige will go with almost any colour and stand up to plain or print.

I love this look equally on a thin or a curvy woman. Both are sexy. It’s also a style that transcends seasons, as you can add a light jacket in spring, or a warm coat in winter.

Best of all, despite the height of the heel (8 cm), you can actually walk and stand comfortably wherever you go, because the heel is so well balanced on the Kathy shoe. This look will take you to a wedding, a party, the races or a red carpet event. 

It will give you that dramatic entrance when you want it, and is equally perfect for a romantic date. The photos were taken at the Princess Theatre (Spring Street, Melbourne), and the café next door to that beautiful Melbourne icon. 

Dare to be different!

A period of long service leave from my day job means that I now have more time for my business, and I’m looking forward to being more active with this blog.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my own personal style. How it’s changed over the years, and how rarely I vary it now. I think most women around my age probably end up with a similar habit.

When I was in my twenties I wore dresses most of the time. Girly dresses, often old-fashioned, sometimes bordering on hippy. In my thirties I had moved into a much more daring phase. I wore fitted pants, short skirts, jackets that shouted “statement”, knee-high, impossibly high-heeled boots.

Now, in my forties, I’ve settled into a style that I think you would call elegant. I wear more tailored dresses, suits, longer skirts and blouses with cardigans, well-cut jackets and coats. The Chanel look.

But I rarely throw clothes out, so I still have pieces I have collected over the years and I’ve started to be more adventurous again.

Believe it or not I’ve been inspired by my shoes. Maria Peron shoes are so striking I just don’t want to be boring anymore. Now, instead of thinking ‘What shoes shall I wear with this?’ I’ve started to think, ‘What shall I wear with these shoes today?’

So over the next few weeks I look forward to sharing a few looks that I’m trying out, as well as demonstrating a number of my more classical outfits.

Here’s one my friend Alice helped me put together. I used to wear this jacket a lot in my late twenties. I wouldn’t have worn it with shorts back then, but I love this clash of military and casual. Join me and be daring!

Fashion torture

Why do women persist in torturing themselves for fashion? History has shown us how destructive some trends can be, but even educated, intelligent women still allow themselves to be ensnared in the fashion net.

Chinese foot binding and corsets so tight that women could scarcely draw a breath are just two examples of ridiculous fashions that thankfully have been discarded. But many women are still very unkind to their feet.

Some women consistently squeeze their feet into shoes a size too small, enduring corns, blisters and painful bunions as a result. Others walk to train stations, suffer at parties and at race days, and even through a day at work, in towering high heels, simply because they entertain an idea that the higher the heel the sexier they look.

Where does this notion come from, and why has it lasted so long? I don’t want to get into complicated sociological arguments, but it’s common knowledge that an idea of beauty is conditioned into us. I wish we women would trust to our own good sense more, and throw out the fashions that are stupid or plain dangerous.

It’s certainly true that higher heels can enhance proportions and make us feel more powerful by adding stature, but why the towers and why the great clumping heels? They only serve to make a woman look ridiculous. Like cows with thin legs and great hooves stuck on the end. Not to mention the back pain, sprained ankles and sometimes even broken legs that often follow.

I used to think that a lot of shoe designers must dislike women, but actually I’ve learned that marketers are more to blame for these fashion transgressions. It was Tamara Mellon, the marketing force behind the Jimmy Choo brand, who was pushing to go higher and higher on the heels of his shoes in the early days of building the brand. Jimmy Choo, the artisan, kept imploring, “No higher! You’re destroying the balance.”

I completely agree with him. When it comes to a woman’s shoe, balance is paramount. I have a general rule about shoes. If you can’t dance in them, or run in them, don’t wear them.