Gok Wan And The Fashionista
Without Prejudice
Nothing excites me like fashion. I have a wardrobe full of Designer dresses and I can now fit into them. I am a delighted watcher of all things fashion, such as my favourite Gok Wan, "getting Gocked" is the way to go. He's a tall English, Asian gay man, a stylist who knows how to dress the womanly shape. All fashion is based on an hour glass mannequin, he tells us. And I am exactly that. Bust, waist and hip, big booty and bust for my size, I like my legs, my Mum had great legs.
So I also love Suzzanah and Trinny and realise that all fashion can look great with the right accessories and working with what you have. It also helps to buy the right clothes. English fashion is what I love as it was my first love when I was 12 to 16. Carnaby Street was rocking the world then, Twiggy was our icon with her frail tiny body, panda eyes and coltish legs. Biba was selling colour and style.
My first purchase at 13 as my Mum let me but for myself was a black fine corduroy dress with white lace collar, cuffs and a hip belt, mini in length, worn with tights and heels. I loved that dress and wore it to the School dance at Thornes House Grammar when everyone else was wearing Deb dresses. It was a popular choice and I knew then I had fallen in love with fashion.
Every Saturday we went to the Wakefield Mecca Lucarno Ballroom and listened to live groups and danced. You had to have the right bag, makeup, dresses and shoes. Mum and Dad weren't well off so I had to improvise with dresses. I would "borrow" my Sisters clothes and turn them into my style. I grabbed a burgundy kilt of hers and lopped 9 inches off it. She was as mad as a cut snake when she found out and wore my purple satin frilled shirt to bed in retaliation. It was my turn to be mad then.
I went to school after a while with my shirt out, skirt shortened by rolling it over, lace socks and high fashion Mary Jane shoes with bows on the front and a hell. I started a fashion trend in rebellion at the dowdy uniform we were forced to wear. All the girls in my form started doing the same thing. Naturally we were in trouble but we didn't care. I just said re the lace socks and shoes that Mum didn't have the money to buy me the expensive uniform and they let me be for a while. When all the girls followed there were too many of us to stop.
My sister was working and had the money and bought a Mary Quant dress of geometric squares in psychedelic black and white. I borrowed it. I didn't tell her. I was at the Monday night Mecca wearing the gorgeous dress and a boy started paying me attention and he went off to get us a drink. The next thing I was looking in to another girls eyes full of venom,
"Stop pinching my boyfriend", she said.
"Who's your boyfriend?" I asked.
I was genuinely puzzled.
She named the boy that had gone off to buy me a drink.
"He started talking to me", I replied.
With that she launched herself at me and there was a full on punch on. I flet my dress rip as she grabbed it and I grabbed her hair and we bitch slapped and rolled around on the floor. Ending up on the top of the stairs which we both went rolling down.
The boy grabbed her and asked her what the hell she was doing. I stood up, panting, breathless with my Sisters dress ripped down one side. Oh, God, big big trouble. He sorted the girl out and I went to the toilets and grabbed some safety pins from a shelf in there and repinned the dress. My Sister went ape shit over it but I mended it and all was good again. My Sister must have wanted to kill me but she didn't.
And I went around with the boy for about 6 months. I was way too young of course and he realised it. He had known girls that "gave out" and there was no way I was going down that road. So we parted as good friends. But my love of fashion never wavered. I made all the mistakes a 13 year old makes, too much makeup, wrong hairstyles, cheap fashion choices but I learned and learned.
I learned to develop my own style, made better choices about where I shopped. I shopped at boutiques only and lay byed the outfits. Nothing was cheap and I worked and saved to get what I wanted. Hippies came into being, I bought a mini tiny flowered floaty dress with matching knickers. I bought PVC lace up boots with a high heel. I wore those boots to death. I bought ankle boots and a gabardine mac. I bought mini skirts and granny sunglasses a la John Lennon. I bought cow bell earrings that clanked.
The sixties set a fashion trend like none before and I was in 7th heaven. I bought a black mini skirt to Australia that my new sis in law said was too short for me and I shouldn't wear and then asked if she could buy it off me. I has a purple and white hail spot dress with white daisies on the bodice and it was also coveted. English fashion was streets ahead of Australia and still is. I want to go there buy a hundred dresses and bring them back. Now what have I done with my Dream Catcher ??????
Love Janette
Nothing excites me like fashion. I have a wardrobe full of Designer dresses and I can now fit into them. I am a delighted watcher of all things fashion, such as my favourite Gok Wan, "getting Gocked" is the way to go. He's a tall English, Asian gay man, a stylist who knows how to dress the womanly shape. All fashion is based on an hour glass mannequin, he tells us. And I am exactly that. Bust, waist and hip, big booty and bust for my size, I like my legs, my Mum had great legs.
So I also love Suzzanah and Trinny and realise that all fashion can look great with the right accessories and working with what you have. It also helps to buy the right clothes. English fashion is what I love as it was my first love when I was 12 to 16. Carnaby Street was rocking the world then, Twiggy was our icon with her frail tiny body, panda eyes and coltish legs. Biba was selling colour and style.
My first purchase at 13 as my Mum let me but for myself was a black fine corduroy dress with white lace collar, cuffs and a hip belt, mini in length, worn with tights and heels. I loved that dress and wore it to the School dance at Thornes House Grammar when everyone else was wearing Deb dresses. It was a popular choice and I knew then I had fallen in love with fashion.
Every Saturday we went to the Wakefield Mecca Lucarno Ballroom and listened to live groups and danced. You had to have the right bag, makeup, dresses and shoes. Mum and Dad weren't well off so I had to improvise with dresses. I would "borrow" my Sisters clothes and turn them into my style. I grabbed a burgundy kilt of hers and lopped 9 inches off it. She was as mad as a cut snake when she found out and wore my purple satin frilled shirt to bed in retaliation. It was my turn to be mad then.
I went to school after a while with my shirt out, skirt shortened by rolling it over, lace socks and high fashion Mary Jane shoes with bows on the front and a hell. I started a fashion trend in rebellion at the dowdy uniform we were forced to wear. All the girls in my form started doing the same thing. Naturally we were in trouble but we didn't care. I just said re the lace socks and shoes that Mum didn't have the money to buy me the expensive uniform and they let me be for a while. When all the girls followed there were too many of us to stop.
My sister was working and had the money and bought a Mary Quant dress of geometric squares in psychedelic black and white. I borrowed it. I didn't tell her. I was at the Monday night Mecca wearing the gorgeous dress and a boy started paying me attention and he went off to get us a drink. The next thing I was looking in to another girls eyes full of venom,
"Stop pinching my boyfriend", she said.
"Who's your boyfriend?" I asked.
I was genuinely puzzled.
She named the boy that had gone off to buy me a drink.
"He started talking to me", I replied.
With that she launched herself at me and there was a full on punch on. I flet my dress rip as she grabbed it and I grabbed her hair and we bitch slapped and rolled around on the floor. Ending up on the top of the stairs which we both went rolling down.
The boy grabbed her and asked her what the hell she was doing. I stood up, panting, breathless with my Sisters dress ripped down one side. Oh, God, big big trouble. He sorted the girl out and I went to the toilets and grabbed some safety pins from a shelf in there and repinned the dress. My Sister went ape shit over it but I mended it and all was good again. My Sister must have wanted to kill me but she didn't.
And I went around with the boy for about 6 months. I was way too young of course and he realised it. He had known girls that "gave out" and there was no way I was going down that road. So we parted as good friends. But my love of fashion never wavered. I made all the mistakes a 13 year old makes, too much makeup, wrong hairstyles, cheap fashion choices but I learned and learned.
I learned to develop my own style, made better choices about where I shopped. I shopped at boutiques only and lay byed the outfits. Nothing was cheap and I worked and saved to get what I wanted. Hippies came into being, I bought a mini tiny flowered floaty dress with matching knickers. I bought PVC lace up boots with a high heel. I wore those boots to death. I bought ankle boots and a gabardine mac. I bought mini skirts and granny sunglasses a la John Lennon. I bought cow bell earrings that clanked.
The sixties set a fashion trend like none before and I was in 7th heaven. I bought a black mini skirt to Australia that my new sis in law said was too short for me and I shouldn't wear and then asked if she could buy it off me. I has a purple and white hail spot dress with white daisies on the bodice and it was also coveted. English fashion was streets ahead of Australia and still is. I want to go there buy a hundred dresses and bring them back. Now what have I done with my Dream Catcher ??????
Love Janette
