Top: Big W
A few weeks ago I bought myself a good quality fabric shaver, so now I feel a bit more confident giving this skirt a positive review. The pilling on the sides of the skirt finally reached the tipping point between natty and tatty, and I knew if I wanted to go on wearing it I’d have to do something about it.
I bought the Classic 50 Fabric Shaver at the QVM for $50, which was well beyond what I thought these little devices would go for. And sure enough, you can pick up a little battery operated version for under $10, but I’ve spoken to a few people since and apparently they’re crapola, so now I feel better about having (accidentally) splurged on the rolls royce of the fabric shaver world.
The guy at the market was totally lovely and helpful. He shaved my sleeve for me, and when I told him the only reason it wasn’t pilly was that I’d given it a go-over with my fabric comb that morning he sucked his breath in through his teeth and told me that they were terrible, and actually made things fluffier, which made them MORE pilly, which when I think about it makes sense. He then gave me the rundown on this device: it’s mains-operated which allows it to have a little suctiony fan to pull the pills up into the grill for maximum de-pillage. The replaceable blades are wicked sharp, and I’ve discovered (from experience, sob!) that you have to be REALLY careful not to run it over a fold or you’ll risk snipping a little hole in your sweater.
After I de-pilled my skirt I was so excited I pulled out every cheap cardigan and sweater in my wardrobe, and spent a cheerful evening in front of the telly shaving every little pill off.
Bloody hell, does it make a difference!
Anyhoo. That’s my exciting story (not really) about how I made my old stuff look new again.
Top: Big W
When I wore trousers yesterday one of my customers commented that she didn’t think she’d ever seen me wearing anything but dresses or skirts before! It has been a while, hasn’t it?
I do wear trousers and jeans from time to time, but it’s rare enough that someone will always point it out whenever it happens. I suspect I’m regressing a bit to when I was a little pink-loving, bonafide girly-girl. When I was young and Mum was still dressing me she learnt quickly that I wouldn’t ever wear trousers if I could possibly avoid it. It had to be a dress or skirt, or there’d be a tantrum forthcoming. (I jest, of course. I was the perfect, even-tempered child and I never ONCE threw a fit over nothing).
The Sophisticate used to tell me that the careful attention that I paid to my wardrobe was part of my appeal for him, but he admits that conversely he’s become so used to it it’s almost like I’m dressing up when I dress down in jeans and a t-shirt.
He would have liked this outfit; shame he’s too far away on the other side of the world to enjoy it. You guys, long distance SUCKS.
This is pretty much what I wore to fly to NYC last month; give or take a few layers of cardigans and pashminas. It’s simple and comfortable. The trousers are a lovely soft ponti, with a decent weight, sewn seams down the legs and a little bit of PU detailing on the pockets. The slim fit is totally flattering – as close to leggings-as-pants as I’m comfortable with for myself.
I threw on some nice turquoise accessories to add a bit of Frou Frou; a necklace that I bought down Brunswick st at a shop called “Fun!” for under $10
It matched so nicely with my turquoise ballet slippers I couldn’t resist:
I do like my match-matchy!
Before I sign off, I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who’s contributed so far to healping me get the NYC for Full Figured Fashion Week. I appreciate your generosity more than I could possibly say. You guys are just so wonderful, I just wish I could reach through the screen and give you all great big hugs.