FIRF - Fashion I'd Rather Forget

So me and my friend Charlotte met up for coffee over the weekend, and began reminiscing about the good ol' days, as we tend do. As we discussed  hot teachers, mad parties and awkward first kisses, the subject of style weaved it's way into the conversation. "I used to look in the mirror and think 'GOD I'm cool', with my England top and faded jeans," she laughed. This little convo with my matie made me think again about what the jesus I was wearing back then, and if you've read my previous post, you'll known that my fashion choices as a kid/young teen weren't the most delightful of the sort - in fact, they were pretty tragic. And so to further this discussion a bit, I thought I'd have a little chatter about my fashion faux pas (photographs will be added at a later date, as I currently have no access to my hard-drive).

- Oh Boy...-
Despite our biological differences and my love for Britney Spears and 5ive, my dad seemed to think that I was a boy. Because of this, I was often dragged around the boy's section of Peacocks (as much as it's hard to imagine, Primark didn't exist back then) and was shoved into the changing rooms clutching hoodies decorated with cars and bicycles and frumpy patched jeans. And don't even get me started on footwear...think chunky blue Sketchers and "Nikey" trainers. No, that isn't a spelling error - they were fake, I got bullied for a week straight, and I loved them dearly.

[As weird as it sounds, I actually didn't seem to mind. I skipped around in my baggy jumpers, unbrushed hair, and rode my pink bike (he managed to get that one right, kudos to daddy) like I had zero troubles, which was true. The biggest decisions I had to make was what flavour crisps I should buy and who to invite to my sleepover.]

- YOLO Mate -
As I grew up, my friends and I discovered Tammy (or Tammy Girl, as it was later called). After spending so much time in baggy clothes, the concept of 'girly' was finally thrust upon me, and it was a world I never knew existed. Tops encrusted with glitter, bright pink flared corduroy trousers and alice bands with rainbows and flowers filled my huge eyes, and as my dad's bank balance slowly started emptying, my wardrobe began filling.

A particular favourite of mine was an asymmetrical red number with the words "I love my attitude problem" printed in graffiti-like font on the front. Yes, really. I was never one to scribble my name on brick walls and I knew for a fact that my attitude was definitely not an issue so I honestly have no idea why I loved it so much, but I soon realised that I wasn't the only one. When I met Charlotte in high school, she too owned this particular top. "We thought we looked so cool didn't we," she said when I met up with her on Sunday. "Our hair was frizzy, our jeans had 'sexy babe' written on the pockets, and lord have mercy on our shoes."

What was it with our parents and lousy footwear?

- Pretty In *vomit* -
I've always wondered where my dislike for pink sprung from, and recently I finally figured out why - my cupboard was filled to the brim with it. Yes, once I started making my own fashion decisions, I overdosed on the colour, probably attempting to make up for all the years I missed out on it. Whilst flicking through old photographs the other day I came across a rather horrendous photo of myself on my dad's birthday, wearing head to toe pink. The only part that wasn't bright fuschia was my hair and skin (and even that was slightly blushed due to the heat, so I basically looked like a giant geranium). And the shoes? Magenta. Snakeskin. Disaster.

As much as I look back on my fashion choices now and hang my head in shame, I'm glad that style wasn't as much of an issue for me as it is for kids nowadays. I went on the Tammy@BHS website recently and was shocked to find strapless prom dresses and straightened hair - my first hair straightener was at 16, and the only strapless thing I owned was a bra from the Angel section at Marks and Spencer. While the teens of today are doing their makeup and trying to impress boys, my days with my friends were spent watching Bring It On and eating cookies. So, in a way, I should say thanks to my dad for shoving me in baggy jeans, because at least I spent my tween-hood doing fun and meaningless things, which is what I believe you're supposed to do.


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