Tentacoooool.

Since I started this blog, I have definitely changed tastes. Sure, I discovered I quite enjoy asparagus and octopus, but also style-wise. In an attempt to be the kind of chilled, sophisticated and relaxed person I will never be, I’ve recently approached fashion from a modern and minimal angle. 

 

 

 

 Le Specs sunglasses. ASOS REVIVE backpack. Lord & Berry lipgloss

I need something else to clean.

I was reading Oyster magazine today, and an interview with Julie Verhoeven and Something Else designer Natalie Wood particular piqued my interest. Verhoeven noted that she never stops making lists and “would be at a complete loss without one.” Wood also added that “full completion of my lists never happens; there is a definite roll-on effect.”

Hopefully this kind of intense list-making always means that you’re also creative and destined to become rich, because I never have less than three different lists on the go at any one point. Even just now, I have an incredibly comprehensive list of what I’m doing over the next month or so, what I’m wearing for said events, and what I have to bring. This same information is also in a different format on a list-making website, as well as some other tasks (it’s not uncommon for me to have 70+ items to complete). I don’t actually need any form of writing down because my brain’s constantly reminding me to bring my phone, wallet and some back-up lippy to that friend’s birthday dinner.

In fact, I probably spend an hour or so a day solely on making lists. Ironic, considering most of the tasks on these lists could be completed in the time I take to jot them down multiple times. My organizational skills must just be too good.

Anyway, being busy doesn’t mean a messy final product. In the case of Something Else, Wood’s frantic schedule and tendency to be disorganized doesn’t reflect in the collections. The A/W 12 collection, Metamorphosis, has me drooling. It’s fresh, modern and minimal but I know that the designers have gone through hair-tearing moments of stress like me to make it happen.

I think there is a part of everybody that enjoys a list though. I like to think of myself as Monica from FRIENDS – my military-style cleaning and desperate planning make me charming... sort of. I mean, who else prepares for the big one-eight by vacuuming their room?

Raf Simons says.

I’m lost in the fashion designer world. Sure, I like clothing and put great thought into what I’m wearing, but if you take me to a high end arcade and ask me if I’d prefer to browse at Costingtons or Overpricior, I would flee.

Basically, I know what designers exist and what are making it big at the moment, but I don’t want to. That whole sector freaks me out. I read articles about designers of the moment, realise what I’ve just looked at, drop the magazine, and run for the hills. I like the look of things in said magazines, but I wouldn’t have a clue how to put something nice like that together. I shop at Lowes for god’s sake.

That’s why Raf Simons is my god. I like minimalism in fashion because it is clean, modern, eternally in vogue, and it’s just bloody easy. Black or white, short or long. No ‘layering’ (curse the word), mullet skirts or hideous prints that not even Nan can pull off. And personally, I think it looks better than all these high heels with flames on the back and the oriental ‘trend’ (see, I’m in the loop. The dirty, frightening loop).

Raf Simons studied industrial design (he could have whipped up some of those snazzy chairs I’ve mentioned) but has worked as a fashion designer since 1995. The Belgian designer is strictly menswear, but that’s the appeal. It’s neat, sharp and will always cover your thighs.

Don’t let the minimalist approach fool you – his early shows were eccentric and alternative, allowing the models to run, and to wander around car parks and studios. In April this year, he became creative director at Dior, which is almost as swanky as Overpricior.

So while I’m still not 100% sure what area of journalism I want to enter, at least I know wherever I end up, hopefully, I’ll be sporting some Raf Simons. When all else fails, reach for the black blazer… and black shirt and black tie and black shorts and black bike pants  and black socks and black shoes. Ahhhhh.

Being creepy.

It may have taken me 14 hours of burger selling and a nail-biting seven day wait, but finally my new love interest arrived – my grey suede creepers. While these dandy kicks adhere to my affair with grunge, they serve another crucial purpose – they make 160cm me taller. I’m almost brave enough to wear them to uni. Although they don’t break the most important rule (“Don’t wear heels to uni, you’ll look stupid” [established by my sister and several friends]), they’re just that little bit out there. I’m sure where ‘there’ is, but it’s intimidating.

Watch it bro.

$16.99 later and I'd acquired my dream watch. Silicone, aquamarine and digital yet still slightly retro, I can count down the seconds until my lecture starts, with bendy 90s flair.

Isn't that just vintage me.

Ah, the wonder that is vintage muscle tops. I found this during one of my frequent online shopping sessions, after checking my bank balance online, and before posting on my friend's Facebook wall about how I was thirsty. It seems strange, then, that for someone who welcomes the web as a means of performing many daily activities that I aim to work at a print magazine. Just like the soft, flattering fabric of this top, the tangible aspect of magazines draws me in. as a 90s kid, that's one thing I won't give up - turning pages (and Nickelodeon).

So hot right meow.

 

Cats! I discovered a shirt somewhat similar to this in a thrift store a few weeks prior to starting uni. I imagined I’d sport it proudly, and everyone would bask in the wonder that was that girl with the spiffy 90s-bargain-t-shirt-with-the-sleeves-cut-off. Disappointingly, no-one really cared, but at least I didn't distract anyone from discussion of paywalls. With journalism costing several clams, and consumers reluctant to hand them over in return, my writing's going to have to be impeccably professional, entertaining and individual if I’m going to eat in the future. Luckily, I’m in the write place (pun intended).

Vest friends forever.

These rather strikingly 90s numbers have featured both on my Tumblr, personal Twitter and now my JOUR1111 blog. It's somewhat remarkable and also slightly depressing that my presence on the wonder that is Web 2.0 can be expressed in vest-form.