I can say with all sincerity, that since I bought my first pair of skinny jeans I have never bought another style. As I recently confessed, I did own a pair of oversized ‘sweetie’ stitched flares in my teens, but thanks to my dedication to the skinniest of silhouettes and a whole lot of stretch, those days are long gone. I, like Kate Moss, like my skinny jeans and am never taking them off. I honestly have bought 6 pairs of black jeans in the past 5 months and just wear them on rotation, with other black things I find in my wardrobe and usually a pair of black boots or trainers and maybe a black hat (noticing a theme here?)
So, last season, I stuck to my guns as I saw picture upon picture of edgy style bloggers and fashion editors, effortlessly sashaying across cobbles in their stiletto and light blue boyfriend jeans combo. The rolled hems, the roomy waist; I have to admit I did see the appeal. I resisted and resisted thinking it was a fad that would fade away and let me get back to my life of deciding which length my skinny jeans would be that season. And then a few weeks ago I found myself in Zara holding a pair of pale blue boyfriend jeans, telling myself I’d just give them a try. Next thing I knew, I was at the checkout and out the door, wondering if I still owned a pair of white trainers.
After a tube journey’s worth of buyer’s remorse, guilt and a sincere sense of infidelity, by the time I’d arrived home, I’d convinced myself that I’d made a terrible mistake and would be taking them back in the morning. The morning passed and so did the afternoon and by the time I’d finished trying to work, I pulled out all of my pastel and pale grey knits, neutral-tones blouses and all the white t-shirts and blazers I could find. I was having a whale of a time. Who knew that a navy sweater could be so striking? Or that people in pastels look more polished? It was a revelation and an awakening. I was finally free.
Seeing as it’s been a good six months since I let another colour remotely close to my legs, it seemed only right to celebrate with a Blush Styles. I had high hopes of rocking a lot of all of the above, but sadly London weather wasn’t quite ready for white trainers or blazers yet. So Blush contributing photographer Giulia and I (in a lot of black; for now!) took shelter from the unrelenting rain in the Brutalist bosom of the Barbican Centre, the performing arts centre that everyone thinks is ugly but I love because it just so happens to be a giant brolly.
Photography: Giulia Ester Galloni