The fight into the menswear department has become pretty exhilarating , and I would’ve happily contributed an uppercut or two along the way if I known such goodies existed in the male realm.
If you haven’t heard, remnants of the Olympics' fashion (circa 2012) still reign on the road. Well, at least in my context. It is not [yet] illegal to wear a baseball jacket to your cousin's wedding dinner. Neither is it to formulate your own version of power dressing. Because other than finding authority in your pizza dinner that looked ten times better than my pathetic kale salad, confidence can come straight from the wardrobe. Cliché. But we'll handle it, oui?
My last trip to Sydney had thrown me back on the road, re-evaluating my shopping habits. With more priority given to personal style and comfort - than painfully following trends - in Australian fashion, I too jumped on the don’t-jump-on-the-bandwagon bandwagon. This odd asian frame of mine hardly made it out alive, but to date, my time spent stressing over following trends has fallen slightly below average. Good news, good news.
Monki Sunglasses and very pointed (on a scale of 1 to Samosa: Samosa) flats by Stradivarius. Pants were tailored.
As if it can't get any better, Karl’s most recent agenda for Chanel has progressed from the supermarketing to power dressing (a la Coco in the 1920s, of course) on the streets. The fight into the menswear department has become pretty exhilarating , and I would’ve happily contributed an uppercut or two along the way if I known such goodies existed in the male realm.
Perhaps the point is to get on with that pair of pants now - it doesn’t primarily exist for your interview ten years down the road. Know that your favourite trends die hard if you’re persistent enough. Hang onto the boyfriend's baseball jacket just because, and take every remark about being too mainstream with a grain of salt. (Truffle salt, preferably.)
Power dressing, baby.
Lots of love and pants,
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