Sitting at home this Christmas, I found myself flicking through old Vogue magazines in the TV’s absence. Whilst I adore print and promised myself I’d never be lured in by the bright backlights of a tablet; every month I watch myself open the rather undesirable, but always enticing grey mail bag my monthly Vogue comes in, deciding whether I’m pleased with the cover, wait four days for the digital version to become available on my iPad and read it on that.
Whilst it’s a long-winded way of getting to the point, it’s a ritual that I’ve grown to love; because let’s be honest reading a magazine is not exactly practical- not on the tube, in the bath or any other place I actually have time to read; but… they do look pretty, laid just so on my coffee table- and never fail to come in handy when I’m in need of a shot of inspiration or an instagram backdrop.
The point I’m making is actually about my new fringe, but it was the old Vogues that inspired me to open my eyes to the beauty of the fringe. I recently got the Sienna Miller fringe ‘circa Alfie’/the boho/Jude Law days. At the time that fringe was everything- the perfect mix of rock chic and girl next door, sweet and sexy, cool but nonchalant. Quite simply, it’s the stuff that hair dreams are made of.
I accidentally fashioned mine trying to rectify a dodgy sidey and honestly don’t think I can ever go back. Dramatics aside the fringe’s benefits are abundant; it can hide spots, shiny t-zones, fine lines and wrinkles, lightning scars, the works. After magically mastering the sienna fringe for weeks I felt like a different woman: I was all Lou Doillon. Skinny jeans and silk blouses no longer made me look like a tomboy sans the Tom, but an edgy artiste who got anything she wanted whenever she wanted.
Two weeks into fringe bliss, sitting on the sofa at my mum’s house in which she stores, much to her perpetual dismay, all of my Vogues. Yep every Vogue that was published between 2001 and now, yeah she hates me and never fails to remind me of that; But hey that’s love.
Anyway 4 magazines happened to be out in the living room (only my mum knows why, although conveniently she never actually seems to.) They were: Vogue October 2004, 2005, November 2005 and Elle 2005) Admittedly most of the reading session was spent in disbelief at firstly how 10 years had passed- I’m approaching th big 3-0 next year so I am having an early 2016 internal meltdown, but I’m sure as the months to real adulthood loom that will pass, right? ANYWAY so I’m flicking through these magazines thinking about how fashion really hasn’t changed except for the occasional dirty denim skirt or flash of metallic lip gloss. As I flicked through the angelic faces of Lily Donaldson, Gisele, Lily Cole and the girls who ruled the runways way back then (oh god it feels like yesterday, I really am old!) all that caught my eye again and again were the fringes. There were kooky Selma Blair box fringes, Betty Page bangs a la Natalie Portman and my faves the long blunt bangs modelled by Kate Moss for the YSL campaigns.
All I could (and cared to) see were fringes, fringes, fringes. Which could mean one of two things, one that I all I see is what I want to see and that this time last year when I had my hair cut, lobs and bobs were the only hairstyle that seemed right, which either means that I make up trends to suit my own interests, I’m a pioneer that is always one step ahead of the game, or (and I’m thinking it might be this or) or…ten years have past since we went long, wavy, dip dyed, ombred, balyaged and baby pink, that like all good classics that just need a little storage time, the bang is back.