Suffering for style is something I don’t really believe in. Do I really need to crush my internal organs to look good? Do my toes need to be squished within an inch of their lives just to wear the latest heels? Can’t comfortable clothing be chic too?
Monday’s outfit defines comfort-chic. A roomy cotton playsuit, loose cotton shirt, flat leather sandals and a belt to add shape. Perfect for a walk into town to share a bowl of curly fries and a bottle of Koppanberg.
Not so perfect after the Koppanberg, when you’re desperate for the loo but have ties and buckles and the prospect of getting practically naked in a public bathroom to content with. And that, my friends, is the inconvenience of style.
Have you ever worn an outfit so impractical it bordered on the ridiculous? Did you persevere because it was just too damn pretty to change? Or did you give in and slip into your PJs in protest? I’d love to know!