First things first, I have really bad taste.
Not in an ironic way; I genuinely have what my mum and friends would describe as "really bad taste." What I mean is that ever since I was little, I have been drawn to things that people describe as 'gaudy' and 'tacky.' From my longer than long nails, to the fifteen earrings in my right ear, to my penchant for 'frog green' hued items, pawn shops, Amazon (as a fashion destination) and my well-curated beret collection, I'm quite sure I leave the house looking more like Grayson Perry than I'd care to admit. I think nothing of wearing leopard print and snakeskin together; I think florals match tartans; I like red trousers. I even surprised myself last week when I bought burnt orange velour dungarees from a car boot sale.
Don't get me wrong, I would so love to be one of those Pleats Please, all-navy, box-fresh-loafers kind of girl, but it's simply not in my blood. I can't remember the last time I bought something tasteful, or grey, or useful, now I think about it. Even having worked in fashion, as I have done now for years, I've become impermeable to the well-clad respectable, stylish women around me, and what draws most comments is my love of colour. Deep down, I genuinely think orange looks best with green; red with pink and silver with gold. Wearing colour makes me feel better; I feel more awake, more 'jolly' (sorry, but I do).
Despite acknowledging my questionable taste, I'm going to make a bid for brights here and mount the best defence I can for wearing super clashing colours together. I've tempered it a little in order to prevent too many 'Cat Lady' trollers. I mean, come on, obviously navy and black are meant to be worn together.
Photographed by Francesca Allen
; ART DIRECTION by Anna Jay