“Good morning, Mode Magazine, Betty speaking”
“Hi, Betty Suaraz? Could you give me some style advice please?”
Last night was the Fashion Faux Par-tay I was telling you about and my, oh my, I looked special. I know the theme was bad taste but, while packing, I had a slight panic that I’d turn up and everyone else would look semi decent….so I had a cheeky flick through the last few issues of Vogue. I came across their ‘More Dash Than Cash’ feature which was so utterly amazingly puuurfect: “I Predict A Riot” showcased a brilliant array of patterns in all their clashing glory. How divine.
So I went to my (newly organised) wardrobe (boooo-yah) and picked my most prized possessions.
1) - O A black top with a glittery, colourful arrangement in the form of a rose pattern (which, in all seriousness, I bought from a charity shop a couple of months ago with the intention of wearing…I just haven’t had the chance, yet).
2) - O My beautiful cardigan beautifully decorated with blue and orange beads in the shape of beautiful flowers (which I would never take off if I could, it’s just too lush for words).
3) - O A blue lantern shaped skirt (which was far too plain and took the outfit to a fashionable level, so I sewed on gold polka-dot fabric over it, making it so totally rad, its un-real).
4) - O Teamed with red tartan socks, gold high heels and lots of bangles, I merged in well with the rest of the party goers.
A friend of mine wore a lilac faux leather jacket (circa 1995) which, in my opinion, would have looked top notch with the matching mid-thigh fringed shorts we adapted from their original state of flared trousers. But each to their own, I suppose. She wore Topshop denim hot pants instead.
Other key pieces from the night included a spectacular pair of white cycling shorts with black Aztec print; a baby pink tee citing the witty phrase of “Hi Mum” across the chest; a 2 piece black and silver combo (courtesy of the girls Grandmother I think, how kind of her); white shell suit with multi-coloured horizontal stripes; full on denim; and heap loads of bows, necklaces, leg-warmers and odd socks.
This was no fashion crime. It was fashion massacre.
Some argued that while they put their street cred. on the line, my outfit was too tame and socially acceptable. I disagree. While I would wear my outfit on a normal night out, I would never ever ever wear them all together, never ever ever, again. I looked like Ugly Betty on a Friday night.