I fucking love the idea of matchy matchy dressing with my boyfriend. In fact it's something I try to trick him into doing regularly, but he's yet to fall for it and was rather annoyed with me when we left his house last weekend in almost matching scarves. I, conversely, punched the air with glee. Now don't get me wrong, I don't want us to look like creepy twins, or like that couple who wear one red one green Converse each that Alexander Fury keeps seeing in Tesco, but there's something fun and ridiculous about being part of a secret gang of sorts who wear the same clothes and do the same shit. I love secret gangs: I used to wish when I didn't have anyone to ride my bike with that I could get a whole gang of friends and dress them up in leather jackets, then we'd ride around and maybe find a secret island like in Swallows and Amazons, and hang out there for the afternoon. Come on! Who doesn't want a secret gang? Handshakes and haircuts, secret words and songs, imagine it!
If you think about it being in a relationship with someone is a bit like being in a secret gang as long as you do it right. The best things about secret gangs are how everything cool you do is exclusive and under wraps. So if you and your boyfriend call each other pet names, or have private jokes, it becomes 100000000% less cool and fun when you say them in front of people. This goes double for dressing up. While Halloween is the one day of the year this advice/rule/whatever can take a hike, I want you first to look at Dough Reinhardt's face and think twice before you dress as the tooth fairy and a... ummm.... depressed molar?
I find that most people and pets find being dressed up like an amusing toy incredibly humiliating no matter how much I'm, er I mean, you're enjoying it which is a damned shame. Although, duh, your boyfriend isn't a toy some days it would really be a lot better if he just let you do his mascara, draw a glitter lightning bolt on his face, and squeeze into some co-ordinating platforms, because then the two of you could act out some sweet as fuck Bay City Rollers videos. Or you could wear matching suits and pretend to be city boys. Or put on wigs and pretend to be Lady Gaga and her reflection. The possibilities are ENDLESS.
Just remember the secret gang's rule: keep it indoors, because then no-one can laugh at you.
Pictures from Fuck Yeah Cute, I Love Pugs, and Jezebel
Ossie Clark Casino Crepe Blouse
Bobbi Brown No Smudge Mascara in Black
Make It A Date: Bright Star
Lately life chez moi has been rather topsy-turvey, we've had double the amount of housemates due to that blasted volcano, people moving in, people moving out, a broken router, an broadband bill we forgot to pay which involved me wandering through Whitechapel in the rain to find a pay point, and a week of parties in the flat above, oh and me leaving my job to go full-time freelance.
Amidst all this chaos and disruption I sat down to watch Bright Star and no sooner had the opening credits begun rolling but I was transfixed and slightly teary. Bright Star is the story of John Keats, the poet, and Fanny Brawne, his neighbour, and their tempestuous romance during the last 3 years of Keat's life. Abbie Cornish as Fanny is a wonder: a romantic lead who is smart, funny, headstrong, and gorgeous; while Ben Whishaw was perfect as a coy yet passionate Keats.
Being someone who neither goes for period dramas nor the poems of Keats I'm not sure what possessed me to watch this film, though it was probably it's appearance on One Day, One Movie, but I am glad I did. While the soft focus saturated colours drew me in initially (I'm a sucker for anything made on real film stock) Abbie Cornish's smart, funny, and insanely stylish character kept me hooked. Sometimes I'll watch a film just for the costumes, compiling colour combinations and looks in my head for days afterwards, and I have sat through a lot of shockers just to see a dash of mauve against a snowy white arm, I hate to admit, however I'm happy to report that Bright Star was no Marie Antoinette thank fuck. This was a smart, engaging film that made me fall in love with falling in love all over again.
Fanny's mostly homemade outfits are still rattling around in my head with their bright ruffled accents, and her penchant for enormous hats, and despite her look being rather avant-garde for those stuffy times it makes her an even more beguiling creature than either I or Keats thought possible.
Steal a little inspiration from her hotch-potch style and go wild on your next date! Throw caution to the wind! Layer ruffles on ruffles, patterns on patterns, and dress like that headstrong heroine you always wanted to be!
You are not a boring person so why should your date outfit be? Stop playing it safe and dress however makes you happy. After all if Fanny could get away with those kind of get ups, and have such an unfortunate name at the same time, then what's to stop you and your less lewd name snagging a genius all to yourself?
Photos from Miles Adrift on tumblr who's url I have rather lost and forgotten!, and screencaps by me.