WEARING YOUR TRUE COLOURS

Wearing your true colours.

I’ve been sewing.   Many (indeed most) of my clothes need taking in and since I’m at the machine anyway I’m taking the opportunity to change things that while not quite right for me were not perhaps worth altering on their own.   I find there is an optimum length for a skirt for me;  a blouse or jacket too short or too long doesn’t flatter, and sleeves are best an exact length.   So I’ve been chopping  and fixing and so far I’m pleased with the results.

I dislike waste so I also enjoy melding two garments together – making a plain black dress for example into one with lace yoke and sleeves from a blouse of which I’m tired.   Although on the other hand, I do not readily give up garments and I still wear coats for example that may have been bought about twenty years ago.

I go on and off colours too.   Some colours – peaches, orange, yellow, camel, mustard, most greens – I never wear – they make me look sickly.   But even among the colours that do suit me, I go on and off them over the years.

Black is my all time favourite.   It’s dramatic;  it highlights the face, and it suits me.   I look good at funerals, although I accept this isn’t the purpose in going.   I also suit white and combinations of black and white.   (Cruella de Vil’s wardrobe would do me very nicely.)   Beige, really stone, is another great basic for me, and these three colours mixed with some grey and red could provide a whole wardrobe and I would never get bored.

But other colours in my repertoire come in and out of favour.   Brown does suit me but I don’t often fancy it.   Navy blue is also a colour I can wear, and I notice it creeping back in after years in the wilderness.    Then the accent colours – pinks, purples, pale blues, some greens – I do wear these but I tire of them quickly.   And I’m always hunting for particular colours slightly ahead of their being fashionable.    You can be sure if I’m scouring the high street for purple, (unsuccessfully), by the next season every shop will be awash with it.

Then there’s the colours and styles you occasionally fancy, but which are like an unsuitable lover – they’re great in the imagination, but the reality is not good for you.   I love those subtle grey greens, and soft mid blues but they just make me look washed out.   Prints, however pretty, I find rarely flattering.   I’m for bold blocks, take it or leave it colours, not compromising mixes.

I can admire very pretty dresses, with frills and ruffles and ribbons and lace.   I can really quite covet them.   But when I try them on I just look ridiculous, like an eagle masquerading as a parrot.   I guess I’m not a pretty, gentle, dainty lady and there’s no use pretending!

Black velvet cape, ermine trimmed, hood drawn up, battle dress and sword concealed underneath, anyone?   I’m sure it would look just fine on the catwalk, and you could have a snorting war horse just for the drama of it close behind.

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About adhocannie
I am a good natured woman with a long memory and a swift tongue. I like loooking at things and thinking about them. Also food, clothes, travel, reading, sewing. I try to see the ridiculous in things, but sobriety of reflection keeps edgting in. I have husband, children, grandchildren, friends... I feel rich in things that matter. I am a happy exile. I like writing. I do not like talking about me (though I do.). You willl be much more interesting.

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