As my mum dragged me around the charity shops of Hampstead Heath – indulging me with her love for a bargain, she ran left when I turned right and I saw her headed directly towards the carnation pink, tatty, suede blazer jacket, I remember thinking ‘oh god no’!
It was hung at a distinctive angle away from the other clothes on the rack, as if to shout; ‘pick me’!
I followed her body in a surreal moment when, like in slow motion, her arm reached out and picked up that single item in the shop I loathed.
I loved watching her succumb to my newfound fashion know-it-all confidence, after being complimented a few times on my choice of outfit by the fashion lecturer.
A few short weeks after, to my mothers joy, I received one of my many monthly parcels from ASOS. I carefully unwrapped my most expensive purchase to date – a vintage-style pink, suede, belted shirt. Virtually identical to the one I had ripped into her about, for having an awful sense of style.
Admittedly, I base my style around my mothers, when she was my age and often wear her old clothes.
Forget the fact that she had already caught onto the trend that suede was back in, before me. Among my circle of friends, I’ll be the only one with a multipurpose suede shirt, as opposed to skirts or jackets.
Long enough to wear open as a jacket and not too short that I can’t wear it as a dress – if I’m feeling sassy and those 50 squats in my bedroom toned my legs enough, there are so many outfits I can create and still feel like I’m not being the lazy frump who wears the same thing all the time.
It’s just a beautiful fabric you can wear however your vision allows it. It’s that fresh authentic suede, with the smell that has you nuzzling your new shoes, and the little nobly indents in the texture, telling the faux-suede wearing people; ‘I’m better than you’ (even though your shoes are from Primark).
Turns out, the old lady who gave that jacket away, missed a trick, and would’ve been at the height of the 2015 Autumn/Winter fashion vibe down at Gala Bingo if she’d just hung on to it a few more months. I’m sure even with the age gap my golden oldie of a mum (she’s only 40), will be pinching it when I’m back home.
