Thursday, April 5, 2012

My style rebellion

My husband seems to be under some delusion that, when I choose what to wear, I should be choosing something that he likes.

I mean sure, I don't want him to think I look totally awful and, sometimes, his very strong views about certain items of clothing are on the money. But, believe it or not, sometimes I like to wear things that I think are cool. And sometimes these are not things that my husband, or most other men, necessarily "get" or think are cute AT ALL.

Girls will usually dig them though. Or, if they don't, they at least seem to admire my courage in actually trying to embrace a tricky trend or to rock something out of the ordinary (even if they would never be caught dead in it themselves...)

This is kind of the premise behind the uber-cool blog The Man Repeller. She defines the term "man repeller" as:
"outfitting oneself in a sartorially offensive way that will result in repelling members of the opposite sex. Such garments include but are not limited to harem pants, boyfriend jeans, overalls (see: human repelling), shoulder pads, full length jumpsuits, jewelry that resembles violent weaponry and clogs." 
She is, essentially, brilliant.

And, in my experience, it is really hard to be a fashionista and not repel men in some way. Even supposedly "sexy" fashion items seem to make my husband wrinkle his nose in distaste - like the time that I tried on a gorgeous pair of over-the-knee boots and he told me that they looked like fisherman's waders. (He then helpfully told me that maybe they do look good - but only only tall, skinny, model-types. I mean, he is right and everything but really - did he have to say it OUT LOUD?)

Normally, I will keep his views in mind when I am buying new things. I see this as is like a defence technique for my self-esteem because it is hard to feel cute when you know that your husband thinks you look off and pulls that stinky face when he sees you coming down the stairs after you have got dressed. If you aren't familiar with the face I am referring to, here is a not at all gratuitous photo of Ryan Gosling to demonstrate:

Source: www.thelonghaulproject.com
Of course, if Ryan ever gives you this face, just wear whatever he tells you to. It would be rude to argue. Plus, he might get all upset and put his shirt back on. And nobody wants that.

Last weekend, though, I was feeling a little sassy. I was looking at all the pretty things on asos.com that I wanted to buy but that my husband would probably not like - the usual asos routine - and kept um-ing and ah-ing over the wet-look and rubber finished pants. Now, I think these can look totally cute if worn properly and in a chic way. For example, this looks chic:

Source: www.metro.co.uk
This, not so much:

Source: www.company.co.uk
It always amazes me how much Vicky's taste in clothes (and hair styles, and tanning products...) has improved over the years. I adore pretty much every look she rocks now - which is not something I would have ever thought possible back in her Posh Spice days.

My plan for these leggings is to wear them in Winter with big, oversized jumpers (like the gorgeous cashmere jumper dress that I bought from All Saints Spitalfields when I was in the States), with a long, worn out t-shirt or maybe under a white shirt-dress. And let me assure you that at no point will my rubber-clad butt be on display!

And while rubber pants are something that I would think men would find a bit sexy, my husband assures me they are not. They are not nice. Not even on Victoria Beckham apparently.

But they have been ordered now and are on their way to my door. So, he is just going to have to deal (or I will just wear them when I am not spending time with him so I don't have to see his god damn stinky face!).

I didn't stop at the leggings though. Feeling emboldened by my blatant disregard for my husband's sartorial views, I also threw an obi belt into the mix.

Don't know what an obi belt is? THIS is what an obi belt is:

Source: www.myintimateaffairwithfashion.com

As its name suggests, it is loosely based on the belt worn by jedi knight, Obi Wan Kenobe:

Source: www.redroom.com
Now, you would think that, being named after a jedi and all, men would kind of dig the obi belt, right? But no. It is something that only Sir Alec Guinness and Ewan McGregor can get away with, apparently.

The other thing that will freak my husband out about the belt I have ordered is that it also kind blends the latest tribal and neon trends into it too.

Source: www.asos.com

So not one, but THREE trends that men fail to understand all rolled into one belt. BAM! Nice work, asos - you may have just found a way to break my husband's brain.

And as if that wasn't enough to torment my poor, long suffering spouse, I thought I would also hit him with some animal print. A leopard print peplum top, to be precise.

I think a little leopard print can look very fetching. A little sexy, a little feisty - so long as you don't dress in it head-to-toe, it can look pretty classy.

I mean, I can understand him having an objection to me wearing something like this:

Source: www.fashionfame.com
But what I am thinking is something to spice up my pretty much entirely black work wardrobe - this sort of thing:

Source: www.polyvore.com
Source: www.stylebakery.com

But my husband is of the view that any amount of leopard skin is a faux pas and that it should be left to tacky, old women from the Gold Coast. And I am not saying there isn't an element of truth in that - it is just that I think there are degrees of leopard print and you should abandon the whole thing just because of the style-challenged ladies of the Gold Coast.

I haven't actually received my pretty new things yet so I have not yet been able to try convincing him that these items are in fact totally awesome and gorgeous (which I plan to do by trying each one on with every single thing already in my wardrobe - a sort of slow, painful torture that is bound to end in one - or both - of us in tears).

Wish me luck!

xox


1 comment:

Charmaine said...

Love the not at all gratuitous photo of Ryan.