L1011265Bless her heart and Wittner shoes.

Two of the most common reactions to the suggestion of having your clothes picked up for you – 1. You completely trust them to make you look and feel as amazing as Beyonce. Or 2. regretting the moment that those few simple words that form a question leave your mouth.

Along with the million-dollar enquiry, how the hell do I pretend to like it if I don’t like it? I do my alcohol like I do my poker face. Completely virgin to the overall concept and idea.

When I broached the idea first to Shauna, it took a good ten minutes of her hmming and haaing whilst staring at her overly compacted and tetritised wardrobe(s) in her city apartment. My last glimpse of her from where I was perched on her bed was her sudden disappearance into the clothing abyss before reemerging with a soft green/blue bundle out from a pile of leather pieces and bags. Huge sigh of relief and fist pump. On top of her award winning multi-tasking skills, juggling a conversion to answering incoming emails and phone calls in one hand, she nurses a chai latte and camera in the other. She is a walking, talking bundle of laughs that tolerates my frequent boob questions, corgi videos and philosophical discussions regarding chubby babies and the source of their appeal.

Coveting certain style qualities that I can only view from a shop window, Shauna’s wardrobe choice for me is only but a shade of the experiemental risks she has taken in the past. Living for clothing layers, brunch and anything covered in chocolate, I counter only to feel like a snowman stuck on the caribbbean coast in leather pants during summer with layered clothing. Food being optional in our current heat predicament when all you crave for is an ice cold fruit juice and endless pool sessions. She said she chose the outfit so that I could take advantage of of the day being particularly cool. A rare treat from the scorcher of the Adelaidian summer in which she had to endure when shooting her take of the outfit in which she credited her uneven tan for.

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The outfit: A blue green set featuring a blazer and split pants. Softer than the sharpest cut suit. Just to prevent a nip slip or becoming an accidental flasher when I bend or snap, it came with a suggestion. For fashion tape and a nice bra in the event I decided to go commando on the top. Slight challenge. On top of my non-existent chest looking slightly more convex that may or may not have to do with period symptoms, nice bras were never on my style radar. Other than this little black number and an Oroton piece that I got from various sales a while back, the accessory I paired along with the outfit set – an adjustable vintage silver necklace to make sure that my eyes were the only thing people were paying attention to – kind of helped. A security guard in which the building I was shooting at tried complimenting my outfit. A lady gave me a thumbs up and winked at me.

The only other comment for this wardrobe choice was Shauna’s consideration of my love for color. Bless her heart and Wittner shoes. Noting my many mishaps with too long and wide trousers and sharp toed heels. Pants that split sideways make prancing around pillars a breeze (literally) for this genius whose best talent is tripping over flat surfaces. Bottom line that Shauna was trying to convey in response to my outfit suggestion? Probably to show me a whole new world with suits while riding a magic carpet ride like that one Disney song. And to have fun with the wind.

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