A Wolf in Sheepskin



Must have it...



So, the last time I blogged was when I threw caution to the wind, had some hard liquor and decided to be a fashion blogger. I’ll let that sink in for a few seconds…I wanted to be a fashion blogger. Now we can all collectively laugh… What on earth do I know about the ins and out of clothing never mind the industry? I own only one pair of denims for heaven’s sake hahaha! Truth is, my favourite magazine had launched a competition in search for an online fashion blogger and my master plan was to infiltrate the magazine in the guise of someone who knew all about trends, designer labels and style while I showcased my own written work and have them hire me on the spot to touch on issues that were of more substance to me.

So I set out on my quest to come up with a creative concept: to show case different trends in SA and compare them with how people in Europe wore the same trends since we are two seasons behind in terms of fashion in this country. A sort of “throwback meets the present”type of feel.  The idea worked for me but my contacts on the other side of the world have lives and could not help bring my global vision to life. That left me a little despondent and instead of me taking that as a red flag, a warning that maybe this is not where I need to be, I persevered and decided, against better judgment, to model my own blog. Again I’ll let that sit with you for a few seconds before you pee yourself with laughter.

I’m comfortable with my personal style. It has no name, box or category but it is hardly something to talk about or even blog about but again the “you are using yourself as a model” red flag went up and I pushed on. I really wanted to write for my favourite magazine and I took the risk.

Needless to say, I did not win the competition, neither was I even considered for the top one thousand. I, of course, am not the best in situations that require sportsman-like behaviour and I immediately broke-up with the love of my fashion life, Elle Magazine, and have not bought an Elle in what will soon be a year. I walk past its awesomeness in the shopping isle and just as I reach out to touch it I swear my ears emit smoke and the terrorist in me threatens to comes out, I quickly withdraw my hand and leave the magazine rack in one piece. Must get a handle on this forgiveness issue…

I’m certain that soon Elle and I will get back together and that little misunderstanding will be long forgotten and off into the sunset we will ride through pages of pastel and neon and I’ll learn to just me, the life meant for others is uncomfortable to wear.

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