[Trousers and top: Zara // bag: Marc by Marc Jacobs c/o Shopbop // Shoes: Buffalo c/o Spartoo // Sunglasses: random gift shop in Orlando c/o my dad]
Well, folks, it’s a big day here at the ol’ blawg, for today, a mere two months after I returned from my holiday to Florida, I will finally stop talking about it. I know! Do I win some sort of prize here or something?
While you’re all probably breathing a sigh of relief, however, I’m actually quite sad to have reached the end of my Florida outfit posts, because I’ve been missing the place SO much lately. Little random memories keep popping into my head, unbidden, and all of a sudden I’m hit with this wave of what I can only describe as “homeskickness”, even although I’m already home. If only it really was a small world after all…
But I’m supposed to be talking about the outfit, aren’t I?
I wore this out to dinner on our second last night, and no, I didn’t spill anything, even although I was basically ASKING FOR IT by dressing in head-to-toe white – or off-white, in this case. Don’t worry, I was amazed, too. I think we all were.
As a pale-skinned redhead, I’m always hearing that I shouldn’t wear white, or, indeed, any other pale colours, because apparently they “wash me out”. To that, I have more or less the same response I give to people who tell me midi dresses make me look stumpy, which is basically, “Yeah, I know, but I just can’t seem to make myself care...”
The fact is, you see, that when you have skin as pale as mine, pretty much everything will “wash you out”. And actually, I think black is a far worst culprit than white in this respect: it has the power to leech every bit of colour out of my face, and leave me looking like the living dead. White, on the other hand, seems to reflect light back onto my skin, so I may be washed out, but at least I look alive, you know? Also: I love white. I love the drama of it, and so I’m probably not going to stop wearing it any time soon, especially this particular off-white shade, which I seem to have collected a fair bit of recently.
As for these trousers, well, I may have managed to get them through dinner unscathed on this particular occasion, but I wasn’t so lucky the next time I wore them, to see a show at the Edinburgh Festival earlier this month, because when I got home and took them off, I realised the black top I’d worn them with had somehow managed to dye the entire top section of the trousers navy. Yes, navy. Disaster was narrowly averted (and no, I don’t think “disaster” is too strong a word, here…) with the aid of some stain remover and hot water, but I do have to ask myself just how many more times I can hope to cheat fate with these trousers. In fact, as soon as I hit “publish” on this post, I might just go and get a head start on the inevitable “oh noes, I ruined my prechus cream trousers by dying them red/black/green/whatever – woe is me!” post which you all KNOW you’ll be subjected to at some point in the probably not-so-distant future.
Hey, maybe THAT’S why people tell me I shouldn’t wear white?