I can distinctly remember when fashion finally began to make sense to me. I was shopping in a vintage store in Manchester and trying on a wool blazer that cost more than my weekly food budget. My friend Emma was hovering outside the tiny cubicle asking if I needed her to ‘just snag it’ whilst I tugged despairingly at the sleeves.
It wasn’t cutting edge. Not oversized shoulders, not cropped length. It was just a bloody blazer.
But when I buttoned it up something finally clicked. The shoulders sat right.
The wool was good quality without being heavy or stiff.
My plain jeans and white t-shirt didn’t look lazy, they looked like I’d actually put some thought into my outfit. “That’ll do it then?” asked Emma when I finally rejoined her outside, not looking up from her phone. “You look like you know what you’re doing.” She couldn’t have been more right.
Or more wrong. Because as much as that outfit made me feel like I had finally nailed this whole fashion thing, trying to ‘look like you know what you’re doing’ had plagued me for as long as I can remember.
How do you appear knowledgeable about fashion without investing in every new buzzy item that drops and usually doesn’t even work on you anyway? I’ve always been jealous of people who appear effortlessly stylish. You know the ones.
They’re not wearing crazy couture or trousers with legs that zip around themselves independently but everything they wear just looks … curated? Like they put thought into their outfits without it being too much. For the longest time I assumed they read Hot Girl Summer trend reports every day and religiously followed every new trend that emerged and boy did I end up broke.
I went through phases. Like most of us did. The neon yellow jumper stage of 2016 (ugly on me), the baby sunglasses period of 2018 (I looked constipated) and please let’s not discuss my short-lived addiction to gigantic trainers that made my feet look like koobideh burgers.
What on earth was I thinking?! I spent £175 on THOSE. And wore them TWICE.
Trainers are meant to make your feet look cute, not like you’ve strapped weights to your ankles. Fast forward through years of fashion fails and way too much money spent on clothes that lasted me all of three wears before they were retired to the back of my wardrobe, spiritually dead. And I finally know enough about what looks good on me and how to mix in enough trends to give off some serious fashion-aware vibes without becoming a slave to every Instagram micro-trend that pops up.
Quick disclaimer before we start, I’m not about to get all nostalgic on you about how you need to build a capsule wardrobe and find your “signature style”. There is absolutely nothing wrong with either of those techniques if they work for you, I’m just approaching fashion from a slightly different angle. Fabric was the first thing I started to take note of.
I used to buy things based purely on cut and not give two hoots about what they were made from. Cue a whole wardrobe full of polyester smock tops from Topshop that never hung right and made me feel like I’d run a marathon when I swayed from side to side on the Tube. Now I won’t touch anything that isn’t 100% natural fabric; cotton, wool, linen, silk if we’re going deluxe.
They not only wear better, but they also tend to last multiple seasons and flow and drape in a way that instantly ups the outfit. I spent over £80 on a pure linen shirt last summer from a small brand I found on Insta. I knew it was expensive for ‘basically a blue shirt’ but holy hell it has been worn more times than I can count in the last year.
Compare that to the £25 polyester number I bought from New Look which stretched out of shape after three washes and now resembles a dishcloth. Math my friends. Basic fabric math.
The second tip that really changed my shopping for me is accepting what works on my body and what doesn’t. Yes Nat, even Tightpants know that cropped wide-leg trousers are huge this season. But do they work on me?
Nope. Not when I’m 5’4” and have hips that show up to social events before I do. I’ve spent years trying to mould myself into fashion shapes I wasn’t built for.
Hence the aforementioned walking prison vessels for my feet at the back of my wardrobe. But I know what works for me now; High-waisted everything. Good shoulders.
Nothing that hits mid-calf (instant stumpy leg alert!). Knowing what fits me means that I don’t feel restricted by my body and what it can and can’t pull off. It actually opens up your options because now you stop looking at clothes from a detached fashion idea and start appreciating how they’ll look on you.
My boyfriend works in menswear (life goals) and he always says to me “Style is about knowing what suits you. Fashion is knowing what’s current. The trick is marrying the two without sacrificing either.” Bloody love when him.
Bless. Thirdly; and this was a total gamechanger for me. Nobody cares if your jeans are from last season.
Like nobody. Outside of the fashion industry, no-one cares if your coat has the ‘correct’ collar or your jeans aren’t ripped at exactly the right spot this year. Hell, my mum STILL doesn’t understand why the exact same style of boot is ‘old’ if they’re beige instead of black.
Get over it, new clothes buying coaches. Realise that unless you work in fashion, or are BFFs with countless fashion editors the people you meet in day-to-day life won’t care if your jumper is last month’s trend. They will however notice if you look badass in whatever you’re wearing.
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I bought a vintage ’70s leather jacket YEARS ago that was DEFINITELY on nobody’s radar as ‘in fashion’ when I purchased it. But it’s hands down the most complimented piece in my wardrobe. Why?
Because I LOVE it. It shows. Spotting trends in the accessories department is something I love now.
When every girl and her dog had a tiny bag you couldn’t fit your purse in I didn’t chuck all my comfortable handbags in the bin. I treated myself to a small crossbody in a bright colour that nodded to the trend without me having to funnel all my personality into a tote the size of my hand. Not only do you get to join in with the trend but when it inevitably dies down (and it will) you won’t be left with a pricey bag you only wore once.
Everyone loves a scarf, find one with a crazy print or unusual colour that you can throw on ANY outfit to tie it together and just like that you’re on trend. I’ve recently started investing in what my mum used to call ‘statement classics’. Basically; clothes that have an interesting detail that don’t strictly autumn into being on trend or off.
A trench coat with funky buttons. A white shirt with an exaggerated collar. Black ankle boots with an unusual heel.
They catch the eye and read as on trend season after season because they stand alone as pieces with personality before you even throw anything underneath. My workmate has this amazing collection of vintage Hermès scarves she’s built up from years of rummaging in charity shops and eBay. She probably owns 15 scarves and spends next to nothing on them because they’re all vintage.
But every time she wears one she gets comments on how ‘put together’ she looks. “I can wear Primark jeans and a basic jumper,” she said to me once. “But slap a scarf on and people think I’ve made an effort.” Scarf maths. Educating myself on different designers and what makes their pieces recognizable has also helped me to shop fashionably without blindly following trends. Nothing makes you look more aware of fashion than being able to walk past a Dries Van Noten print dress and know it’s Dries because of the colour palette it uses.
Or spotting a McQueen silhouette from fifty paces. You don’t have to buy anything you recognise, but you’ll appreciate it more and start to build up your own idea of what suits you and what doesn’t. It was during my lunch break, aimlessly wandering the silk scarves at Liberty when I overhead a lady loudly informing her friend that “obviously it was quite reasonable for that dress to cost £600 considering the craftsmanship.” I remember staring at her like she’d grown a second head.
Nat, FURRY HEADED MODEL HIGH QUALITY DRESS STUDIOS!! The dress in question was Matya Toy dolls dream at £600 but looking back I’m so glad I took note of that comment. I can now spot good quality when I see it which has helped me make better decisions at every price point.
I still would never spend £600 on a piece of clothing but I know enough about fashion now to spot a well-made garment in the high street besides. These days I am a high street whizz. I can spot a good Zara frock that channels haute couture vibes without looking cheap as fuck from a mile off.
I know which brands do better knitwear than others (hint; Uniqlo are wizards). And more importantly I know which shops to avoid at all costs when it comes to buying something that needs to hold its shape. MOST OF THEM.
Buying less is probably the most accidental benefit to learning about what works for me and how to inject small trend moments into my outfits. When I was buying EVERYTHING because it was trendy I would endlessly scroll through my wardrobe thinking I had NOTHING to wear. These days I can go months without buying anything but when I do NEED to buy something I’ll research it to death.
Research and destroying_Zara_q Google’s clothing sales. I went bl***y months looking for the perfect pair of black ankle boots. Tore my feet up trying boots on everywhere till I finally settled on a pair I’d eyed up in Magaschoni for waaaaaaay above my normal price point.
They were £220. But they’ve already replaced three pairs of cheaper boots that were frankly rubbish and I’ve worn them to death so I know they’ll last me years. Which means spending £220 on a pair of boots that I know will get tons of wear is actually bloody reasonable.
I obviously still go weak at the knees for things that catch my eye; last year I spent weeks convincing myself I needed a jumper trimmed with feathers. I WAS WORKING FROM HOME. At the time my flatmate thought she was doing me a favour by calling me out on it: “Are you gonna wear that when every Instagram influencer suddenly gets a new quilted jacket?” She asked.
Cue me screeching in the back of Tesco crying about how cheap I was sounding. But you know what? She was right.
If I’m not willing to wear it EVERYWHERE when it’s deemed trendy I shouldn’t waste my money.
My head.
She keeps me grounded when it comes to fashion buys.
My go-to fashion guilt trip when I really should know better. Have teenagers Instagram asking “But will you be sad when this comes back in 20 years? !” Girl, I’ll be ALREADY OVER IT. My mum is the same when I start eyeballing a “special occasion” dress that would basically only be appropriate for my mum’s funeral. “You go to the pub and work from home Nat.
When are these SPECIAL OCCASIONS that you need all these dresses for? ?” Hell, now that I stopped panicking about keeping up with trends I actually look better than when I was anxiety-buying every piece that earned the ‘it’ title. I have less clothes but what I do own all works really well together. I don’t spend ages every morning looking into my wardrobe thinking I have nothing to wear.
And I mostly stopped viewing fashion as a test I was failing and started appreciating it for the art form it really is. No I don’t own the jumper every it-girl is wearing right now. But I do own plenty of pieces that make me feel like me, with just enough trendy additions to show I give a shit about fashion.
And let’s be honest. Looking like you know what’s trendy is all about showing people you KNOW what can stay.
