Early evening in Phuket sunlight filters through leftover humidity from the day, and just like that, the grass is greener on your side of Sri Panwa‘s forest park, and perfectly symmetrical butterflies far outweigh any mosquitoes that may be cracking open their bottles of red at such a time of day. Zanita and I spent an hour of twilight frolicking (whatever your visual manifestation of the term is, that’s what we were doing) amongst tropical foliage with tendril hair from the rain, and not a thought for our email inboxes (dammit). I had every intention to fashion a leafy crown from these towering fronds, but alas it became far too dark and we had growing suspicions of large mythical Thai monsters waiting to pounce my poor Morrison Skirt. Green with envy, so the saying goes…
On that note, I have no qualms in telling the world that mullet skirts have never been my thing – most likely attributed to the name. In the same why I balk at the utterance of ‘boob tubes’, ‘kitten heels’, and ‘denim diapers‘, why would I ever want to wear a skirt named after the worst hairstyle in the history of the world? I will admit, this voluminous bottom half does not quite amount to a mullet skirt – its asymmetry tends to one side, not the backside – and it is definitely the beautifully heavy fabric and gargantuan print that struts its own praises to the surrounding green. Had this been in a polychiffon, however, this post would be a whole different story. Such is the intrigue of Morrison.
For a piece as grand as this, you have two options. First, to organza the hell out of your torso – think haute couture, Daphne Guiness, and giant tissues masquerading as cleavage coverage. One day I’ll go to a garden party dressed just so – though I’ve a few decades to go before I can pull that off. Second, and what is more suitable for this generation, an easy black bikini (I would have opted for a triangle style, but alas didn’t have one with me) and an even easier throw on singlet that ELWOOD had the absolute ingenuity to design.
Oh easy singlet top: you complete me.
Daphne Guiness would not have approved.
photos by Zanita Morgan