When my friend Stephanie and I were at university in Edinburgh, we used to quote that “blow winds, and crack your cheeks” line from King Lear to each other all the time.
Stephanie was from the south of England, and she just couldn’t get over how WINDY Edinburgh was. I, meanwhile, have lived in this part of the country my whole life, and I STILL can’t get over it how windy it is: or how the wind seems to know when I’m planning to take outfit photos, and then makes sure to blow extra hard.
These photos were pretty much doomed from the start, though, even without the wind’s best effort. The outfit, for instance, was thrown together in less than two minutes: I’d been planning to wear something completely different, but it was an outfit I’d put together in my head, rather than on my body, and when I actually got round to trying it on – about ten minutes before we were due to leave – I realised it looked ALL WRONG. There then followed a frantic few minutes in which I tried on and then immediately discarded various outfits, while trying not to disturb my giant bun – which, by the way, I was wearing purely because I knew that if I left my hair down on such a windy day, I wouldn’t get a single usable photo.
Absolutely nothing I tried worked.
“I HATE ALL MY CLOTHES!” I told Terry, as I ripped yet another pair of boots off. “AND I HATE THE STUPID WEATHER! AND I HATE TIGHTS MOST OF ALL!”
It’s true that the tights were the main culprit. I know everyone loves them, and I love them too – on OTHER people – but basically every single outfit I tried looked fine… until I added the tights, at which point it instantly looked drab and ordinary. NOT wearing tights wasn’t really an option, because it’s way too cold for bare legs, and all of the nude fishnets I swear by were in the wash. Eventually I settled on this blue Zara dress, which Terry zipped up on our way out the door. I hadn’t intended the jacket to be in the photos at all, but when I stepped out of the car, and was almost knocked sideways by the wind, I realised my plan to remove the jacket for long enough to get a couple of photos of the dress (Which has a really nice neckline. You’ll just have to take my word for it, though…) was a foolish one, so I kept it on, and these photos were taken in about 60 seconds flat, with both of us struggling to stand up against the gale.
At the 30 second mark, it started raining quite heavily, even although the sun was still right in my eyes, making me scrunch up my face, really attractively. “For the love of God, put your sunglasses on!” said Terry. So I did, and we took a couple more photos, before giving it up as a bad job, and beating our retreat.
I think Terry did a pretty good job under the circumstances (And if I’ve learned one thing from this it’s that the key to dressing in the wind = hair up, and clothing that doesn’t fly up in the breeze…), but if you’re wondering why there’ve been fewer outfit photos than usual around here, now you know why. Not only am I completely incapable of dressing for the cold weather, I’m also fairly sure the weather has some kind of personal vendetta against me, too. And King Lear thought HE had it bad!
I know it’s only October, but… roll on spring!