I’ve never shied away from my l u x e past.
Even my first post, I set my fashion laundry out to dry size 00 shorts and all. In truth, before recovery my wardrobe was desperate, dare I say it a little Armani Junior. Anorexia is sartorial sabotage, forget the hair loss and bad skin, I was shopping at NEXT for kids!
But that was then, and this is now.
Luxe closet is overflowing (collapsing even) under the weight of clothes bought pre/during and after my illness. It’s obscene. I’m not sure how I fitted in life between outfit changes. So I’m working my way through them. Carefully. It’s cathartic decluttering. Mind, closet and soles. Mr. Luxe has suggested I go shopping once it’s all done. I will.
This little ensemble I gathered from pile A. Adore-it, D. Didn’t-fit-does-now and F. Fabulous-for-someone-else-ReSell.
Not remotely relevant but there’s also B. Burn-it. C. Children’s-home. and E. Everything-else.
That jacket though!!! What a find. Not only does it fit like a glove AND give me a waist (i’m genetically thick-waisted) but it was gifted. From a generous friend – sorry Jane – with a good eye for hand stitched, silk lined, Paul Smith pearls of wardrobedom. I now regret shunting it lapel-first into a sartorial skip, I’m also deeply ashamed that’s it’s existence up until now has been cohabiting with a dodgy wire coat hanger. Straight to pile A, unsurprisingly!
Global tribal. A key trend this season. So Animal print pants… Check. A little stretch on the waistband… Check. Tapered round the ankle for l u x e footwear exposure. Yep. Pile D!
Forget toe-cleavage, I’m in toe-hostage. Restored health and shoe-size is to be celebrated. But two seasons of shoe speculation? Superfluous! Sad face. Pile F. The l u x e legacy.
Legacy it might be, I’m not sentimental. It’s for sale.
To shop Pile F. plus a few other unwanted’s click here.
What a year!
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Jacket Paul Smith, Trousers Zara, Camisole Wolford, Clutch Zara, Shoes Christian Louboutin, Sunglasses Miu Miu
