Magnolia Runaway

October 28, 2012

Contemplating leather pants, couch potatoes, and Perry’s cherries.

The last time I pulled out a self-portrait, my hair wasn’t nearly as short and I had just turned 18. Obviously, coming of age entitled my taking selfies to a whole new level. This afternoon, I took the same liberty of shooting in that same room of my house whilst waiting for my hair to dry, and debating the appropriateness of my leather trousers as lounge pants with my brother. They’re slouchy, I said. They’re leather, he said.

Regardless of his adolescent sartorial advice, this grey tee and the leather trousers that I bought a size up have certainly dominated my attire both in and out of the house – which makes me feel like I’m doing something right. When you find yourself wearing the same pieces being a couch potato as you do to a corporate meeting, and then to class where the lecturer wears board shorts, my mother would say that you’re growing into your style: a sure sign of being more confident and comfortable in your skin and styling choices. Having said that, I’d be slightly concerned if you’re wearing pyjamas to work.

Each to their own.

Yet, it does always come down to the cherries on top. My cherries for today were Alex Perry’s pretty new jewels for Magnolia – the Aegean Princess quarter of it, anyhow. Prince Caspian had a happy¬† jaunt or two around the Aegean sea, didn’t he? I’m sure his pretty lady friends wore chandelier earrings and bracelets just like these. With tshirts, TOPSHOP blazers and leather pants too.

Reading over what I’ve just written, I’d like to give a shoutout to Mr Boswell who would have hated all of the above paragraphs in my HSC year because, they really don’t make a lot of sense.

Perry’s cherries and my highschool English teacher aside, you should all own something like this tee, these pants, and this geo ponte blazer (mine’s a size 16 for the boyfriend effect – though Alex looks hilarious in it), because I wear them to death, and your wardrobe should only be comprised of things you wear to death.

And now, I’m going to make myself some tea.