Vogue really wants to help me out, you guys. It’s got lots of helpful articles like “42 ways to wear knitwear” and “how to invest in statement jewellery”, which are highly relevant to me.
(And for those of you assuming this was sarcasm – guess again, hombre. I’m 100% serious. I love the fashion advice articles on vogue.com and I read them on my lunch breaks with absolute glee. Plus, as a fashion blogger extraordinaire, I take my hat off to anyone who can find 42 ways to wear knitwear.)
Recently, Vogue published an article titled 30 things you should have in your wardrobe by the age of 30, with a subheading that read, in part, “30 means you’re a real adult, right?”. I’m 34, and besides my job and my attempts to be at least somewhat financially sensible, have dismissed all of the traditional markers of adulthood from my life. No house, no husband, no kids – I’m over here obnoxiously taking three days off work because “I’m tired” and “I need to replenish myself”. Obviously I felt an immediate rush of curiosity and anxiety about what level of adulthood I would be judged to have attained. I clicked on it with frantic haste.
I’ve been working in a corporate career since I was 22 years of age, and this article was clearly written for me and my kind, so I had 26 of the items. One of the items was “a work bag” which, depending on your work, is almost certainly not the very pretty Chloe item pictured. Things I do not have despite having had an additional FOUR YEARS to get my shit together include:
- An investment bag: It might not hold more than your phone, but by 30 you should have treated yourself to that oh-so-pretty bag you’ve been wanting since you learnt the words Chanel, Gucci and Prada. Consider this peer pressure for treating yo’self.
- A pantsuit: Hillary didn’t go through 2016 for nothing. Learn from your elders and invest in a pantsuit, stat.
- A set of activewear: Because what’s adulthood without a little self-love?
- A beautiful pair of pyjamas: Silk is preferred.
It’s important to note that I didn’t write those italicised bits for comedic effect. That is the actual text from the Vogue piece.
An investment bag
I have one opening question, and it is – why is that Chanel bag so popular with young women? You know the one I mean. The quilting makes it look so thick and bulky and the overall design aesthetic is best described as “would look great with a Gold Card”.
At least the Chanel Jumbo Flap and its ilk are a solid investment, as they go up in price. Less so the insane number of trendy luxury handbags that are now available. Do not “treat yo’self” to a handbag worth upwards of $4000 unless you are bloody sure (a) you will use it forever or (b) you can sell it one day and make your money back. I am sure of neither of those things, and thus my Fluffy Bluff remains my most luxurious handbag purchase to date. The beauty of not shelling out twice as much as I paid for my first car is that I can buy a bag that looks like a little black sheep and still sleep easy, knowing I’ll smash out a good cost per wear inside 12 months.
Indeed, Hillary did not go through 2016 for nothing. However, she didn’t go through what must have been the most aggravating and humiliating experience of her entire life just so that pantsuits would become a thing. JAYSUS.
I have actually owned a skirt suit before. I bought a grey pinstripe suit from Portmans in early 2011 to interview for my job at a large bank. I felt hyper professional (and, strangely, pretty hawt), but that’s the first and last time I wore it as a suit.
While I think suits look bloody cool, and I’ve very much enjoyed the four magazines’ worth of suit exhortation I’ve consumed over the past week, I Just Can’t. There’s no way I’d buy a special grown up outfit for an interview nowadays. I think I’d feel self-conscious in a suit, and that’s saying something considering my flexible interpretation of appropriate day wear. Time will tell - a year ago I never wore dangly earrings, now I’m Captain of the SS Statement Earring.
A set of activewear
Confession: I am actively resisting this because I’m afraid that if I start to see activewear as a fashion opportunity, I will buy 20 pairs of leggings to wear to the gym five times a year. I prefer my self-love in the more traditional format of delicious snacks, something mindlessly amusing on TV/in a book, and extremely crisp clean sheets. Lying down, laughing and eating, is how I am avoiding spending eleventy-million dollars on stretchy tops and colourful sneakers. It’s a fool-proof plan.
A beautiful pair of pyjamas
Now this, this is something I could get into. Probably not silk, but instead a very high quality cotton in navy blue with a perfectly executed bit of white piping. I want them to look like the kind of pyjamas extremely posh and blond 6 year old boys wear to boarding school. Then I’d get a dark red velvet dressing gown and a pair of red satin slippers.
My hair would be perfectly coiffed (and somehow not the insane “meth addict at a 1980s dress up party” style it usually is when I’m in or near a bed). My skin would glow with the inner health I definitely do not have (see above re: lying down, laughing and eating snacks, instead of exercising).
I did a casual Google and found these. That description though: Often mistaken for silk, our Lombard fabrics are a dream to sleep and lounge in throughout the year. These people really get me and my pyjama needs.
(This outfit has nothing to do with Vogue. I just love this tshirt that reminds me of one my Mum had in the 80s, and I especially love it with these black stone wash jeans. The whole thing is from SaveMart - hurray for an outfit that costs less than $30!)