Back to black

Those were the days when you could
smile for a passport photo

Those good old days, when coral reigned queen of all the colours - how I loved my coral lippie, my coral blush, my coral clothing and accessories, and if I could wear them all at the same time...so much the better.

Any outfit I wore was coordinated to the max - everything matched from the makeup to the hair accessories (how I loved my scrunchies and scarves and plastic earrings).  

Back then, I thought nothing of wearing coral, brick, orange, bright pink and any certain number of colours that would have made me look like I had caught some exotic disease like malaria - I was yet to embark on the "Colour me Beautiful" phase..and when I did, evidently coral, brick and orange weren't my colours. Go figure.  But apparently neither was black.  So I ignored my "Colour me Beautiful" shopping palette. Because...well, I'm a New Zealander, and we Kiwi girls love the colour black. I mean, we even have a national rugby team that goes by that name.  What's not to love.

Sometime between the new romanticism and grunge era, my wardrobe morphed from a rainbow confection into a dirge...I'm not sure how it happened, but there it was. ABC and Spandau Ballet were no longer topping the charts and I was starting to resemble the musical palette of Nirvana and Pearl Jam. All of a sudden colour had been given the heave ho, and in its place was a sea of drab.  Now that was nearly 20 years ago, and colour has been too scared to pop its head above the parapet ever since.

Every time I travel overseas for work, I will always get two or three comments on my "dressing for a funeral" wardrobe choices...but for me, the colour black is empowering...and slimming.  (Hey, a person can dream a little, can't they?)  And more importantly, it's easy. Having a monochromatic wardrobe just takes a lot of the guess work out of what I'm going to wear each day.  Black...or black with a hint of cream...or when I really want to spice things up, I might throw in a touch of beige.  Easy!

But sometimes I need a break from the black that permeates every part of my closet. Yet how do I do this when 90% of my clothing has been purchased due to an absolute fear of wearing anything that registers on the colour spectrum?

Enter the humble accessory...here is where I can indulge my passion for all colours (okay, maybe not coral or yellow...or brick orange).  And the beauty of an accessory is that you can experiment with colour and not spend too much on an item.  

My standard work uniform of black skirt and top changed up with a few accessories

My standard look for casual evening or day

For the most part it's back to black...hiding behind the uniform of dark clothing, trying not to stand out too much.  Boring...

Is it time for a change?  Time for me to get off the conservative (and monochromatic) treadmill. Maybe it's time to embrace a bit of colour...and to wear the fuschia hat without fear.  

What about you?  Did you always embrace colour?  Or are you like me...chromatically challenged?, 

How do you add colour to your wardrobe?  

From slob to...not so slobby!

My name is Ginny...and I'm a reformed slob.

As a teenager I was untidy...messy...a bit of a pig (no offence to pigs).  There, I've said it. The clean genes seemed to have bypassed me and my bedroom deserved a condemned sign on it.  I remember coming home for school one day to hear my mother and middle-sister sniggering as I walked down the hallway to my bedroom.  There on the door was a handmade sign warning that a Boeing 747 had gone down in my room and they were still searching for survivors.  Hardy-ha-ha! My room was hardly messy enough to lose the entire crew and passengers of a jumbo jet...maybe a 737...just maybe messy enough for that!

There was something to be said for tidying up my bedroom in a frenzy before friends came to stay. Nothing quite like identifying missing plates, cutlery and mugs by smell alone, as they hid among the laundry (both clean and not so clean) that lay piled on the floor, next to the empty set of drawers.  Who knew that even water left long enough in a glass could go off...

When did the "messy" genes dissipate and the "not so happy to live in a pile of rubbish" genes take over?  I think it had something to do with moving out of home and into my own place. Suddenly there wasn't a mother (who occasionally would throw her hands up in the air with horror at the mess and help me trough out my space) to fall back on.  

Maybe it was becoming a bit more mature and taking some pride in my surroundings..or maybe it was the onset of some sort of neurosis.  Whatever the cause, now I can't stand too much mess. In fact, coming home to any sort of disorder after a week away will send me into a spin. So whenever I travel for work or a holiday (ha ha - who am I kidding, it always seems to be for work), after packing my bag, I do a crazy, rush through the housework episode before I load my suitcase into the car and head for the airport.

Less than a minute from this...

...to this

Coming home to "clean" makes me happy.  It may not stay immaculate for long, but before I know it, suitcase is packed again, and cleaning frenzy commences.  

My latest barometer for how busy my life is, or how lax I've become in my cleaning is my bedroom chest of drawers. You see, last year I heard about the Marie Kondo style of living, and being too cheap to buy her book, had watched a multitude of clips about how to organise my life the Konmari way.  She talks about surrounding yourself with things that make you happy, and stuff like that.  Now I'm all for surrounding myself with things that make me happy, but my budget doesn't stretch to a Maserati or a live-on masseuse called Sven, so I've settled for tackling some of her organisational tips.

One of my first attempts was the bedroom duchess.  And now, after a year of perseverance, my set of drawers have become a wonder to me.  Every time I open a drawer, I gasp in awe at the streamline, tidiness of it all - tops ordered by type, vertically displayed for ease of grabbing a suitable garment for the day.  Nothing too old or had-it, everything tidy and just as it should be. So to my surprise the other day I realised just how dis-organised those drawers were becoming, and put it down to tiredness, and being busy and a general lack of time. That being said, after giving myself a mental kick in the butt - it took all of twenty minutes to set my clothes to rights again. Maybe it wasn't a lack of time, or about the tiredness, or even being busy, and maybe more about being a little bit lazy, and maybe it was also about those "happy to live in a pile of rubbish" genes trying to reassert themselves again.  

From chaos

To some semblance of order

While I relish the tidy, I find it all to easy to slip back into some of those bad habits...my organised wardrobe is all of a sudden not so organised.  The cutlery drawer is in a tad of disarray, the bathroom drawer is a little messier than I would prefer, and before you even know it, I open up the linen cupboard and am attacked by a tower of face clothes and a stack of towels that have been balancing precariously from the last time I opened up the cupboard and hurriedly and haphazardly threw in the clean, barely folded linen.  And with the onset of messy comes the onset of anxiety.  

So for me, and my neurosis, the lessor of the two evils is to move my lazy behind, and get some tidying done.  While that might seem a little on the "crazy" spectrum, I guess my home should be just as I want it to be...at the end of the day, it's my space. Meanwhile, I'm about to head back to the airport, my suitcase is already in the car. So let the cleaning begin...

I 

Work wear - fun in the wearing or just plain wearying?

There was a time when getting ready for work was a considered event...

Look, I'm not saying I was working during the "Mad Men" era.  I'm not quite that old. Though sometimes, when it comes to fashion, I do feel that I was born in the wrong time.  I did love the way they dressed in the 50's and 60's .  Now that was an art form!  However, when I did enter the work force in the mid 80's there was still a certain expectation, a certain formality that was required in the office.  The Clerical Union even had a little code of conduct book on the expectations of dress in the workplace.  And I followed it to the "t".

I would never have dreamed of turning up to work with wet hair, without wearing pantyhose or a slash of bright lippie.  That was just not the done thing.  Plus this was the 80's - I mean if there was ever a time for excess, this was it.  If it didn't have a bow, shiny coloured plastic, stiletto heels, sparkles or you couldn't slap a Suzanne clip onto it (kiwi flashback) then it wasn't worth wearing.

I loved my snoods, scrunchies and diamante broaches. I loved my multi-coloured metal, bling and plastic earrings. I've kept a few of those sparkly, dynasty inspired and plastic numbers. As I embark on my spiritual journey of minimalism, I just can't throw them out because of the fantastic memories they evoke.  Plus, surely this is one fashion trend that just has to make a comeback...surely?  And when it does...well, I will be more than prepared.

Way to jazz up an outfit!

Certainly fashion has become a little more lax these days, a little less formal, and i have to say, a little more boring.  

Now it's hard to stop the blending of my casual wardrobe into my work wardrobe.  Back in the days of yore!!! there was a distinct demarcation line in my wardrobe.  This was for work, and that was for play.  My first thought after my long bus-ride home from the inner city, was to walk in the door, and remove my work-clothes.  These were to be kept in pristine condition and never to be worn around the house.  

I had my party clothes and they were sacrosanct.  And probably, on occasion, a little indecent so they had they own wee space in my wardrobe and my heart.  The world of day-light hours just wasn't ready for my leatherette skirt!  As for my office clothes?  As soon as I grew sick of a work item, or it was looking a little worse for wear, then it could migrate into my casual wardrobe.  I still do this now.  If my clothes are for "best" then I hate wearing them to the office, because suddenly they loose that sparkle, that feeling of occasion. Which is kind of crazy when I'm working out of a capsule wardrobe.  And that is the reason that one of my stipulations to myself was that special occasions would not count and that I could dip back into the sparkle if required.  

As for the advent of lycra (or spandex - depending where in the world you live), I blame this for my ever growing waistline.  Back then there was no such thing as give in the fabric of the clothing in my wardrobe.  Most suit items I owned were cotton or linen.  Clothes were firm and, yes it must be said, sometimes not that comfortable to wear.  But if it looked good, who cared?  With a firm waistband, you felt that muffin or extra sandwich as effectively as a corset.  So while my non-forgiving waistbands kept my waistline in check, now that I'm older ...well, thank goodness for two way stretch.

But there is a hint of nostalgia for those power shoulder pads, so wide that I would have to turn sideways to pass through a door frame, and I am sure they were so flattering for my 5 foot 2 inch frame (that's 159 cm for those who can work out height metrically - I'm still not there yet).  But who cared.  Working Girl was the movie to watch, and the inspiration for many an office worker's wardrobe choices.

Office Look circa late 80's - not too much bling.  I was told to remove my oversized earrings for this formal office photo.
Probably a good thing as there might have been too much competition with my hair and eyeliner

Nowadays, I look at the way women dress for work in New Zealand and find it hard to distinguish between corporate and casual Friday.  

For me I still have four distinct looks for my job.  The first is a uniform that I am required to wear occasionally.  As i have no say or input into this, I wear it as required, and always ensure my hair is professionally styled in a bun or such.  Then there is the corporate wardrobe, when I am required to dress a little more formally.  This is my favourite look.  And does incorporate a whole lot of monochromatic!

Bursting with colour - a week's worth of corporate wardrobe

The third is my every day office wear - usually skirts and trousers with cardigans and jerseys. Finally is my casual Friday look which I can only wear once or twice a month depending on what is required of me in my job.  Black or dark blue jeans with a jersey, or jacket and flats or boots.  A great way to head home at the end of the day, ready to start the weekend.  But it still feels a little strange to me...wearing jeans in the office, though a lot of younger women and men feel that a pair of jeans is a piece of clothing that can be worn any day of the week.  Is it me that is holding onto this old fashioned sense of how to dress for the office?  I am now surprised to see a male colleague wear a tie these days.  

What's your look for the office?  Have we got too relaxed in our style of dressing, or are we exactly where we are meant to be with our freedom of dress?

The great suitcase dilemma...

Packing…again

It feels a bit like ground-hog day because here I am, once more living out of a suitcase.

I’ve blogged about packing for away trips before, but I am undertaking a fair bit of travel over the next few months, mostly domestic trips with an overseas jaunt thrown in for good measure.  However, I still can’t seem to master minimalism when it comes to what goes in my suitcases.  So how, how, HOW is it that some people can pack of whole weeks’ worth of clothes into a teeny, tiny bag and still manage to look fabulous for the entire time they are away.  Whereas I, with my “big beast” of a bag, barely manage to string a decent look together for every other day.  How is that? 

My suitcases comprise of my weekend casual (wheelie) bag, my over-night (wheelie) suitcase and one that needs a forklift to get into the back of my car (wheelie) behemoth.  Thank goodness for wheels, I often tell myself while struggling with handbag, laptop bag and various other bits of paraphernalia that are wrapped around, strapped around, hanging off me, falling off me, and smashing into other people as I dash through the airport dragging “the beast” behind me.

"How much does your bag weigh"?  the eagle eyed airline employee asks me as I tip-toe past and try and sneak "the beast" onto the conveyor belt.  "I know it's under the allowance" I lie sweetly, tongue in cheek, and try not to give myself a hernia as I nonchalantly pick  "the beast" up, pretending it weighs no more than a feather, and place it gently on the belt, smiling like an idiot all the while to try and disguise the grunt of pain and the broken blood vessels that have surely burst in my eyes. Meanwhile, tendons and muscles have separated in my arms, and I'm sure I felt an internal organ rupture with the effort.  You see...big suitcase..must fill to capacity.  That's my motto and one that I live by.  Because who knows when you might need the three extra pair of shoes or those 20 pair of knickers for that five day trip.  Because....just in case!  Of what? I have no idea.

Let's cram in as much as possible

So I know I should have a “middie” bag…and I did…once.  But there was that one time…when grabbing the bag off the carousal and trying to lift handle, and wheel bag in the direction of the exit in one fluid moment – trying to look cool and like I'm a well seasoned traveller - I noticed said bag was not inclined to let me lift handle and wheel it in the direction of the exit…as handle was busted and wheels were no longer in existence.  It appears the sticky out bits of your bag are prone to massive damage when bag is dropped from great heights or thrown across cargo bays at the airport.  

And when claiming for a replacement bag on my travel insurance, it appears that sticky out bits are not covered.  What the….why else would anyone be claiming for damage to a suitcase???  Makes the whole travel insurance thing a bit of a joke!  Except for when everything goes missing…and while that hasn’t happened yet, I am sure it is only a matter of time...because this is me...and that's the kind of luck I have.  The most shocking part of the whole episode was that I had to carry….yes, carry...my bag through the terminal, and as I am not the most proficient of packers, that was quite a bit of weight to lug to the waiting car.

Years ago, a friend and I were waiting for our luggage at an overseas port, when out on a carousal came a guitar.. in two pieces.  And I'm pretty sure this wasn't a planned design of some new-fangled guitar.  I have to admit that we laughed a lot at that and wondered who the poor so-and-so was because I'm sure that passenger had checked in a guitar that was in its entirety.  It always pays to make sure you aren't standing next to the rather upset owner of the guitar before you start mocking the sad state of affairs of a mangled musical instrument.  For some reason, he didn't find it as funny as we did.

When I started travelling more for work, I promised myself a fancy suitcase - then I went shopping, and that fancy suitcase was suddenly not so appealing.  Because I couldn't really afford the "fancy" unless I sold a kidney or two.  So here is the question I pose to you. Should I set myself back a grand, or sidle on back to the budget store?  Should I lay-by myself a well know luxury brand?  Or think in terms such as "generic" and "cheap import"?

There is one important thing to factor into the equation. Whether your suitcase is expensive or a cheapo number, there are some things I know to be true.  When it comes to luggage, the chances of it being dropped from great heights, and being flung around are not, I believe, directly connected to the value of a suitcase.  Give the baggage handlers their due….I don’t think they discriminate when it comes to disdain or lack of care for a suitcase.  I think they are an equal opportunity workforce when it comes to inflicting damage, and it is kinda nice that luggage has no class system…as long as it isn’t your bag coming home to you without its sticky out bits.

So for now "the beast" remains in play, until the sticky out bits come to an untimely, sticky end!

Throwing a party in a very small space

...or how to play Sardines!

Hope you get to start the day with amazing people

Who bring amazing pressies!!

Hope for great weather – but if your party is in the middle of winter– that might be wishful thinking

Hope your tailor doesn’t tell you that the dress you took in to be altered is going to look “dumb” (yes, that word was used…among others) if she does what you ask her to do...

Hope you have a spare dress in the wardrobe!

At least it meant I kept with the pink theme!

Hope your family and friends like arts and crafts – because that skill is going to come in handy for decorating

Hope they more than like it...and can actually do it...otherwise your results will not look like the YouTube channel you googled...

But which ones were ours - hard to spot the difference...I know!

Hope that only four people RSVP – because quite frankly that’s all you can fit around your teeny tiny table, or comfortably seat on your two sofas…and when I say sofas….I mean a slightly larger version of an arm chair

Hope you win the lottery at least the week before, so you can walk in, cash in hand, and buy that big, gorgeous house with the separate formal lounge so you can breathe a sigh of relief if more than four turn up

Hope more than four people turn up - otherwise sobbing in corner of room may commence

Hope you purchased enough alcohol for more than four people

We had enough...phew

Hope you remember friend's warning and don't imbibe too much before guests arrive

Hope your friends and family aren’t claustrophobic, are very comfortable in confined spaces and love playing games like “how many people can we fit into the mini” or “how many people can we fit into a telephone box”…you get the gist!

Hope your friends and family don’t mind leaning against the fridge, the stove, the kitchen cupboards, the walls, the….(insert any available space here)

Hope no-one has an injury and can easily perch on arms of chairs, cushions or survive standing for hours on end

Hope everyone likes to mingle – because in this case, they won’t have much choice or say in the matter

Hope your friends will come to the rescue with ideas on how to increase your space and warm the outdoor area so people can spill out of the cramped quarters and finally move arms that had been pinned to their sides for the last couple of hours…

Outdoor Diesel Heater provided heat later in the night

Hope the people you invite can take better pictures than you…

Apparently Not!

Hope you don't attempt a selfie after a couple of cocktails

Hope that if you did attempt selfie after a couple of cocktails, the results were stunning...

Apparently Not

Hope you serve plenty of food and drinks to your guests and hope that they have come to see you and each other, and won’t care that they are inadvertently playing sardines….

Hope you remember to serve said food and drinks before you knock back your sixth cocktail

Hope your family and friends can fend for themselves when it comes to food and drink because you failed to heed the warnings...

Hope you end the day with amazing people

Amazing friend made amazing cake...

And hope that turning 50 will be made all the more bearable by having incredible family and friends in your life

Warm and inviting doesn't have to cost a lot...

Unloved Spare Room to Guest Room!

While tidying my spare room for up-coming guests, I got to thinking about how little it takes to make a modest space more warm and inviting.  Nothing like a little elbow grease and a fresh bunch of flowers to do the trick. Cripes...did I sound like my great grandmother there for a moment? Not that we're living through the Great Depression...I haven't succumbed to dripping sandwiches just yet...but there is some truth to it. You don't have to spend a lot, or anything at all, to show family and friends that you've made an effort.

When I have friends over, it's always a good excuse to get in a spring clean, if I have time, on a room that sometimes gets a little forgotten.  Otherwise a rapid fire, tidy up session will usually do the job.  This only involves a quick dust of the surfaces and window sills, a fluff of the pillows and a general tidying away of the laundry that somehow seems to migrate there without too much effort from me.  

I have a laundry at the back of my garage, like many small flats.  However as I don’t have internal access to said garage, it can be a right pain in the proverbial to get to it.  And as such, my ironing board lives in the spare room, along with the iron…and the washing basket, usually full of clean items that need folding and putting away.

As for my suitcases, which I usually unpack straight away, these sometimes (nearly always) end up in that room, waiting for me to get the energy to unload the last bits and pieces and put the suitcases away.  I’m great at getting the clothing and the majority of my toiletries out…but as for the rest of the stuff…a stray pair of shoes, power cords, gloves and scarves, the shower cap and body lotion I nicked (hey…it comes with the price of the hotel room), those items just seem to linger on and on until…behold!  It’s time for my next trip away, and I’m chucking those items back into the bag.  So is this a sign of laziness…or me being really, really organized?  Don’t answer that!

And don’t get me started on the wardrobe (where non-seasonable/too tight/never been worn/should part with it because it’s old and shabby or out of date…but love it for some stupid reason...clothing hangs).  If my guests need some closet space, well, that does take a bit of effort to compact the items in there to one end…but I can usually manage to clear a few inches.  At least I can shut the wardrobe doors and virtuously pretend it is a clutter free zone, not Monica’s hall cupboard from Friends.  

So while my spare-room may occasionally look a little messy, it doesn’t take too much work to get it back to a functioning space when friends or family come to stay.

Some fresh flowers and a water bottle is all it takes to add that extra special touch

Now comes the question of guest towels.  I made the bold statement a few blogs ago about treating ourselves, and using the guest towels.  I guess I told a bit of a fib…because try as I may, I just can’t. You see, I hate buying new towels, and truly, some of mine are pretty sad looking.  But I’m okay with sad – because well, it is just for me, and no matter what detergent I use (and I don’t use bleach in my washing machine) over time they all end up looking like something from the peroxide family has got at ‘em.  So those guest towels have remained guest towels only – and I’m going to live with that. Because it’s one less thing to think about if people are coming to stay, and in this crazy, busy world, sometimes it’s nice having to think about one less thing.

Guest vs Everyday (really need to throw out and replace) Towels

That being said, one thing I am always prepared for is the unexpected guest.  As soon as one guest leaves, the bed is remade up in fresh sheets.  Nothing like having to deal with that at midnight, when someone might have imbibed a little too much, and shouldn’t drive home.  I can easily shove the unfolded towels away, but putting on fresh sheets when I too (as hard as it may be to believe) have imbibed a little, is just…well… too much to bear thinking about.

Putting it all together

However, what I have come to learn is that this might not be the case with all folks.  (Not the imbibing…but the clean sheet thing!)

I was driving into work the other morning, and a discussion (heated argument) erupted on the radio station I was tuned into about clean sheet protocol.  Should this even be up for debate, I pondered?  Seriously, do people not replace a set of sheets after one guest has left? Well…that would be only one or two callers with this point of view, surely.  What?  Okay! Hmmm…apparently not.

I have heard the argument before – that it’s only for one night, and what’s the issue.  The way I look at it, would I wear someone else’s unwashed clothes if they had only worn them for one day?  Let me think about that for a minuscule amount of time…and the answer would be a resounding “NO”.  I am curious about what other people think about this one…because if I’m staying at your place for the night, and you have the rather laissez-faire attitude toward sheet protocol – let me know.  I’m more than happy to bring my own sleeping bag, otherwise I will be having bad thoughts about what may lie beneath the duvet!  (I was going to list all sorts of unmentionables here…but suddenly I felt a little queasy!)  

Am I being fair...or a bit of a prig and a 'pain in the bottom'? Am I the norm...or some whiny house-guest who may never get another invite again? And have I just got myself banned from other people's guest rooms for the rest of my life?

I would love to hear your opinions on the clean sheet debate.

When minimalism was a way of life....

Ahhh – the olden days….

When everything was harder, tougher and yet, somehow so much better, especially when we start lecturing the younger generation about how much worse off we were. I remember the time I walked ten miles home in the snow...barefoot...fighting off wild dogs. What didn't kill me made me stronger...blah, blah, blah. Yeah, that was a time!

There was the time when you couldn't buy anything on HP. No-one owned a credit card. That was the time when, if you didn’t make it to the bank by the end of Friday…you were pretty much stuffed until Monday lunchtime.  But even that wasn’t too much of a hardship because the shops weren’t open, and as long as you had stocked up on your cask of wine for the weekend, you could make it through.

That was the time when you couldn't blob out in your active wear because no-one had heard of Lycra, but you didn't have a car so you had to walk or bus everywhere so there was no time for blobbing. That was the time when spaghetti bolognese was some exotic foreign fare and your mum was ramping up the cooking stakes if she threw in some sultanas with your curried mince. That was the time when your father probably threw a bit of a tantrum at the "posh" Chinese restaurant because they didn't serve bread and tomato sauce with the dinner (entire family cringing under the table). Yeah...what a time!

What I do remember, as a child, is how much more frugal we were, which had nothing to do with minimalism but a lot to do with necessity.  There just wasn’t the money to go around, and it seemed to be that case for most of the families I knew.  No such things as takeaways, except for the occasional Friday night Fish’n’chip feast. Who doesn’t remember a white bread chip buttie - yes, white bread I said, because that was a time when no-one knew that carbs were the enemy, because the Hip and Thigh diet wasn't the number one best seller...yet!.

And certainly brand new clothes were the exception, not the rule.  As the youngest of three girls, hand-me-downs were a fact of life, and I don’t ever remember begrudging them, especially if it was an item I had been eyeing up in my sisters’ wardrobes. And it became even better when my sisters got jobs and started buying new, fashionable clothes. Then it became a wardrobe free-for-all (when they weren't looking). But they would probably raise an eyebrow if I started rummaging through their wardrobes, makeup and perfume collections, begging for some pocket-money from them before I headed off on a Friday night now-a-days. Now...that definitely was a time!

Yellow top (why oh why?) by big sister, jeans by big sister, white stilettos by big sister (see the pattern forming?)
Hair by Dynasty and Super-hold hairspray, and home decor by the 1980s

Mending, altering and re-purposing clothing was the norm, when I was young. I think my mother loved the Bay City Roller phase (for all you youngies..that is something you might want to Google – especially the accompanying fashion trends that went with that), because half-cast jeans were de rigour, and getting another year out of said trousers was made easier by adding on that essential tartan border to the jeans.  

"I love, you love, you love me too love...lalala"

Remember those lovely embroidered patches we could add over tears and holes in our clothing? They were the rage, and I am sure a God-send to all parents watching their pennies at that time. And I have a memory of my mum removing the collars of my dad’s work-shirts, reversing them and resewing the collars back on, thereby giving the shirt another year or so of life. Hey Mum, guess what...you were the original Minimalist...too cool!

Nowadays we seem to live in a more consumer driven, throw-away society where mending, altering, repairing and re-purposing is a forgotten art.  But now I am living through this six month challenge (SIX MONTHS I keep reminding you over and over again) of not buying any items of clothing, I have been looking through my closet to see what I have in there that I am not wearing and wondering is there anything I can do to the item to make it more lovable and allow it back into my mainstream wardrobe?

The challenge is to try the item on (even try wearing it out and about for a few hours) and see why it is you don’t wear that piece of clothing.  Is it too small (it shrunk, I tell you, shrunk)? Is it uncomfortable, and you always find yourself pulling and fiddling with the item of clothing.  One of my friends gave me a gorgeous top she had, just because it annoyed her when she wore it.  I loved it and grabbed it off her with glee.  One morning I put on said item, got out the door to the car, turned around and went back in the house because it had already started irritating me. It was just cut wrong and kept falling down off my shoulders, and not it a fashionable way. Not even five minutes in, that top was dead to me.  Girlfriend got the evil top back, and maybe she tortured/teased another friend with it or re-purposed it as a cleaning rag!

Is it every time you wear the item, someone comments on how tired/ill/let’s call the undertaker/how close to death you look.  I’m thinking the colour of that particular piece of clothing is probably not quite right for you. And I'm looking at you Yellow (see photo above) and Dusky Pink...dammit.

Is it every time you walk out the door in that particular piece, you feel fat, or frumpy or just not quite on top of your game.  It could be the shape is not quite right for your figure.

Swing coat that sat in my wardrobe barely worn

Add a zip...and voila...a more wearable jacket more suited to my shape

Once you have worked out what isn’t working, have a good look at that piece of clothing and see if there is some way you could alter it and make it work for you?  Can you dye it (something I haven’t had too much success with) or hem it, or take it in somewhere (here's ever hoping), or add a zip or button or let out a seam (yeah, that's more likely).

Irritating "won't stay closed" cross over jacket

Irritating jacket becomes less irritating with the simple addition of a button

If you have the sewing skills – good on you.  However if not, take it to a local tailor (they usually cost less than the ones in large shopping malls) and see what they can do.  Then you must make the decision as to whether the cost of the alteration is justifiable to the piece being altered.  If this is a piece you know that you could wear many times, making it a basic to your wardrobe, then the additional outlay is probably worth it.

To cut or not to cut...jury still out on this one...tailor says NO!

For me, there is no better feeling than being able to repair a much loved item, or alter something to ensure it will become a complimentary part of my wardrobe.

$25 to repair the heels or $200 plus for a new pair of leather shoes...this one's a no brainer!

As for hand-me –downs?  I still love ‘em.  But now it’s my girlfriends handing them on to me. Just no yellow please, or evil, sliding off the shoulder tops... but free clothes? Now that will make for a great time!



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