Wardrobe therapy/ Mood altering attire.

I’ve written before on the matter of clothing reflecting ones inner state; how individuality or its opposite  can be expressed through our outer embellishments. But today’s post is on the powerful mood enhancing properties that clothing can provide. I have been aware of this personally for years and have used it as a survival tool being prone to to a lively and complex mood palette. To put it more simply lets say I self medicate on an almost daily basis using garments and accessories instead of pills and powders to achieve a desired high or even  just to take the edge off.

My kit or stash of current popular uppers include my psychedelic spandex leggings that my cousin Victoria intuitively asked on having them described to her whether its better to wear them if you’re black? Precisely. Think Cameo and you’re on the right  track. Being a slight white female I wear them sparingly as they promote an array of reactions varying from smiles of amusement, brotherly respect to incredulity. Some days a blast of boldness or Chutzpa is just what the wardrobe Doctor ordered.

Exhibit two in my  canon of blues blasting fashion artillery is my vintage red box hat with netting and feathers. Purchased for fun and fancy dress there have been times when I was so low and the fear was so great that it and only it could lift me from my torments and get me through the day. In early January I found myself sunk deep in existential horrors. The weight of consciousness bore down heavily on me. My thoughts spun like lab rats on speed. The heavens poured ceaselessly. What’s more I had to be in Oxford St in a couple of hours for a closing shift of high street retail.

My reptillian brain took charge and with stealth and cunning I removed the hat from its display point swiftly clipping it into place with purposeful determination. I glanced in the mirror and smiled.

Within moments the panic eased. My heartbeat slowed and with my racing mind. A charming red checkered blouse, blue jeans and my trusted Clarks slouchies ensured the seratonin flowed freely for the course of the evening. Word Up.

So here in no particular order are my Top Ten Fashion highs.



So sorry for the pitiful dearth of entries lately. London living is a bit taxing at present. Besides all I seem to do lately is encounter technological difficulties. It seems sadly that technologically operated devices sense my presence and squirm. Hence this is taking form in the public library as it seems I need a personal telecommunications consultant or heck a whole flaming squad team just to get broadband installed in the new flat.

This is not to say that I have been neglecting my stylish pursuits. Quite the contrary. Last saturday with temps of -numb toes and sore ears I braved The Boogaloo Vintage market for the second time. With my lungs in tip top shape I accepted a stall in the outdoor stables.  Marketeers and visitors huddled together for warmth and jived to romantic airs on the gramophone. My other armour against the cold was carbs. I ate a whole other self in confectionary and appreciated each and every mouthful. Wouldn’t you?

My lunch, dinner and tea.

I did myself proud on the display front. The hanging lanterns and fairy lights added lustre and warmth to my temporary boutique.  The custom came and sales were made but the day was made by the presence and support of my wonderful London Friends. Thank you dearly Beth, Agnieszka, Sandra, Alison, Ashling and Rina.

Vintage Excellence

My toes have thawed and I am now all enthused and psyched about Friday’s Barboot in Crouch End. Roll up for some Valentine Vintage Love!!!