Frills 'n' Spills

For a few months now, I've been well and truly stuck. That is, stuck in a fashion rut. Having claimed before my hatred of judging people by their looks, I suppose it would be pretty sensible to presume that for me, throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie is perfectly suited; after all, clothes aren't that important. Are they?

Well I can safely say that after countless mornings of this grab and go dressing, it did nothing for my self-esteem. I suppose it was lack of inspiration, as well as general feelings of de-motivation, that led me into this fashion trap and finally, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and start to enjoy that morning routine once again. I'm not shallow enough to suggest that clothes define a person's character, but I can't deny the influence that they have on my mood, and therefore the way that i come across to other people. In trackies and a jumper, I'm as miserable as sin - and seem to let my slouchy clothes determine an equally slouchy attitude. But just a little bit of effort gives me that boost to feel happy, relaxed and ready to face the day. Of course, it's not the same for everyone; I know many people who can happily trot to Uni in their trackies with a smile on their face and eagerness in their eyes... but that's just not me. I need some sort of structure; I need to feel like me.

But where does a sweatshirt clad girl turn to when her style has gone awol? Her super stylish, ever put together housemate of course! I think Maria was more excited than I was at the prospect injecting some inspiration into my wardrobe and, after a few hours and as many dips into the Milk Tray, we'd come up with a pretty good selection of outfits. It turns out you can create a whole new wardrobe without spending a penny : )

The £2 Topshop trousers that were a gift from Maria ... best bargain ever?! (YES!) 

Me and my beautiful sister, who's wearing an equally gorgeous playsuit.
NOM. ( Beth you look SHAWADDY )

Just a couple of hours of reorganising, re-matching, and actually just looking at the clothes that have been hidden away for so long has lifted my spirits tenfold. The trick is to remember that on those occasions (or perhaps phases) when your only wish is to just blend away into the background, force yourself to just face the fear and have fun. It's so easy to worry too much about what others are thinking, when at the end of the day all that matters is what makes you feel happy. Cliched? Perhaps. But there's not much sense in being miserable now is there?