Sunday, 9 February 2014

It's a family affair.

Consumed by the realms of style, led by my own ideas and my confidence in who I want to become each day. I very rarely have style icons to whom I look to for inspiration as I emerge from bed each morning but choose instead, to hone in on characteristics or lifestyles of people generally, past and present. Be that through a certain era or perhaps a person's sex (It's a commodity to see me in a shirt without a tie or a dicky bow). Maybe you will see me choosing to eliminate any element of my womanhood as I bop around in a cord pinafore, ribbons in my hair or mary jane shoes on my feet as I stubbornly retain the child in me.

My mum (far right) on a school trip to Sayer's Croft.
With this in mind, within the last week or so I have come to fathom how all of these ideas draw from those closest to me. My family. It is no hidden fact, we are all very close and during 2013 I spent a lot of my time investigating our history and trawling through copious amounts of old photographs. Alas, I now can see that nobody will ever look as fly as my nan does eating a toffee apple. My mum's understanding for my wanting to often dress masculine is a result of her being a bit of tomboy as a young child, at my uncle's side. The free spirited approach to dressing how I choose, must have passed on from my dad's hippy sense of nature and how if I could own anybody's wardrobe in the world (bar Alexa Chung) it would be my uncle Richard's as a boy. 
My mum in her plaid pinafore. 
I think what I am really trying to say is, my style is a part of me gifted by my family, of which I am proud and is the reason the limitless confidence I have in my appearance exists. Without even realising it, my aunt (from the photo below) has made me become so prejudice towards cardigans on my endless hunt for knitwear just as good.
My aunt Eileen (in the most perfect cardigan and shorts combo) and my uncle Richard at the beach. 
My dislike of toffee apples I believed stemmed from my lack of interest in all that is sweet (very much unlike my family in this instance) but now I have started to consider if it were merely a subconscious belief I could never live up to the cool exterior my nan gives off as she poses for the photo with such nonchalance.
Nan, her toffee apple and that faultless ensemble. 
So really I just want to say a huge thank you to my family for showing me what it is to be cool, whilst meanwhile throwing a tad bit of frustration their way, questioning why they didn't ever store any of their wardrobe for future me? I believe I could have squeezed myself into that buckle skirt of my mum's, I'm sure.
My mum & my uncle.


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