I hate to say it, but my mother was right. Over twenty years ago, she told me that blue was my colour. Of course, no teen would take kindly to this prescriptive notion and I remember actively choosing other colours to prove her wrong.
That was the early nineties (not known for being a particularly chic period in British fashion), but I wish I'd listened. I have just had an enormous wardrobe clear-out, taking a bin liner of clothes (so full I could barely carry it) to the local charity shop.
What's left? The blues, mainly. Two pairs of blue jeans, a denim pencil skirt and a denim mini skirt, Breton tops, 50s style cotton tops, a couple of t-shirts, navy jumpers, a cardigan or two (ten). But the main staple of my wardrobe is the blue dress. I have blue patterned and printed frocks, a corduroy shift dress, and (my favourite) a denim tunic. The dresses are almost all from Toast.
It seems I have reached that stage in my life where I've found a style and a colour to suit me, and I'm going with it. Navy is a less harsh option than black; there's something Parisian in styling a navy blue knit with a pair of well-fitting jeans, perhaps a scarf, too.
The best part? Getting dressed is so straightforward now. Gone are the mis-matched shades and confusing clashes. Simplifying my wardrobe has simplified my morning routine and for that, I am glad.
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