Most of the year, I'm a lover of chiffon. Distressed denim. Aged leather. Silk and rayon. Linen and lace. Flowy, airy, ethereal, light - those are the adjectives that best describe my style of choice. Effortless. Anything too heavy or tight, too structured or stuffy is scorned in favour of La Wardrobe Boheme.
But then autumn roles around with winter breathing icily down its neck, and a switch is flipped. Patent leather no longer seems so formidable, brogues become dapper, blazers a necessity. All of a sudden I want to look...preppy. Oxfords, peter pan collars, menswear trousers (suspenders - hear, hear!), matching sets, saddle shoes - it's not just tomboy, boyfriend-esque androgyny we're talking, this harkens back to school uniforms with a dash of prairie prim. And tweed. And trench coats. And argyle! Can't go wrong dressing like a middle aged-philosophy professor. One who would proudly wear knee socks, of course...
Where does this urge come from?!?
All I know is, I still like my prep best with a bit of paprika. A pink ponytail here, clashing prints there. Monk straps in the brightest of silvers, glasses in the thickest of rims. Top it all off with a bigger-than-life blazer and my heart is won.
Ah, to be young and in winter.