Trousers, trousers, wowsers.

It’s rainy and miserable here in Melbourne. And that doesn’t look set to change…

RUDE

Despite the fact that I purchased a lovely new clear plastic and pink bubble umbrella that makes rainy days sah fun, some days, there just still something missing. That’s the kind of miserable day that you need wear  VERY BRIGHTLY COLOURED TROUSERS. So here’s a homage to my current collection, to brighten your (and my) day. Hooray!

 

From top to bottom: Vintage from Shag, floral cords from Topshop, Fruit pants by Gorman, Floral pants from Glassons, Green cords by Lee from General Pants, Spotty trousers from Glassons

Cos I’m a creep…

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I bought these lovely glittery brothel creepers from, wait for it Rubi shoes! Yes, the very thing I used to ridicule and judge people for wearing back in my Cotton On sales assistant days. But I must say they’ve improved. However I will still say that I judge you for wearing their crappy $10-15 flats. They’re terrible. They’ll last you a few days at best, and they look awful.

But anyway, you may be wondering what brothel creepers are… so…

Above are my ridiculously, awfully brilliant Wittner t-bar pair, which I bought for a steal last year.

Creepers then became popular in the 1950′s, and then not really again until Prada made a collection in 2011 featuring them in all their glory…

Prada creepers via SharpNChic

They then appeared on fashionable feet everywhere in their clunky brilliance; from French runway show-goers to Franky on season five of skins. Androgynous went up a level.

Via Elle UK

Great illustration by Kiss de Fleurs on Flickr

Creepers styled by Liv Purvis of What Olivia Did

I wore mine with my new dark teal Lee cords, and revelled in the comfort that is wearing flat shoes to work. Ahhh…

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Lee cords, Rubi Creepers, Sportsgirl shirt, Glassons jumper, Portmans leather jacket, new hair, Disneyland phone cover courtesy Mum and Dad 

And I didn’t even get dumped!

Generally when women change their hair, it means they just broke up with someone.

I took the plunge yesterday, and got a FRINGE. Or bangs, whatever you want to call them depending on your country of residence.

I came very close once, when my friend Bre told me she’d be more than happy to cut me a fringe, and that I’d look great. We were both very drunk at the time and I was very close to consenting, if not for Laura who stepped in at the last minute. Although she was also drunk, she also has an inordinate amount of common sense, and advised against it.

So anyway, my hair is a little lighter, and yes I have a fringe. Ella said it looked cute on me, and I plan to use this to my advantage. I then made fairy bread, just to prove that I not only look 10 years old, but I also am 10 years old. But it’s okay, because I HAVE A FRINGE AND I’M CUTE. N’est-ce pas?

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Also, I’m enjoying my new dark tealy green Lee cords that I picked up on sale. Plus the cons Mum and Dad brought me back from the US. Sah cah-my.