Mel, Holly and I watched Clueless at the weekend. Cher's scientifically co-ordinated, computer-approved uber-matching skirt suit fabulousness has appealed to me since I first watched the film back when I was ten years old.
My 24 year old self can't quite get to grips with the pristine Valley-girl shebang so I've opted for a mismatched double tartan moment and a mohair jumper in one of my rare nods to adulthood. Stompy boots, beat-up fake leather jacket and religious iconography keeps my oft-forgotten inner mosher satiated, and ensures that the loud and chatty types steer clear of me in the library.
Usual chirpy demeanour and less self-consciously fashion-speak service will resume shortly. University is eating my soul, and verbally deconstructing my "look" (LOL) on this here blog is a kind of escapism that also kids me into feeling vaguely productive. Note to self: stop overanalysing your wardrobe. Save that for the disseration. Over and out!
Betti Baudelaire xxx