My first (reluctant) fashion piece

When I looked at what's out there in fashion writing, I was underwhelmed and, frankly, bored. I don't care about the simple descriptions related to what's hot and what's in. And the cost of the clothes... well, I can't even.

This is what I thought the fashion magazine landscape offered. But then I thought about the importance of not taking this as given or that there was no room for being genuinely intrigued by the evolution and indeed the "anthropology" of fashion. 

Mostly, though, I love how choosing clothes or looking at how they're curated and sold on second-hand vintage shops on Instagram speaks to my deep need for self-expression and the reclamation of my life free from its traumatic past. 

It began quietly for me in my first year at university. In high school I wanted to cover up. But I found a unique aesthetic at 19 that freed me from wanting to conceal my identity or disappear. It involved full black or white and black with a pop of earrings. 

Later, it was the addition of red lipstick and wild maximalist patterns clashing. I toned down on that a bit. Again, in the quest to fit in. But I was always drawn to the colour bursts of the Mexican aesthetic. I lost a lot of this need to express myself when I had children though. Something about muting, or giving away my sense of self for others took hold of me. 

Now I am almost 40. And I have come alive again. My dressing in the morning is such a simple act of agency. It allows me a sense of ownership over who I am in a chaotic world. It is also purely about me (although I do love admiration), and a way to exist in a merciless world. One day I will tell you what I mean. 

For now, I want to show you what I did recently. I put on a friend's wedding dress (she's divorced) that she found for a steal at Camden Market in London. And I wore my Converse sneakers (did I tell you how much I think about how to match beauty and converse and fishnet stockings?).