80s frock: who was I kidding?

I don’t like change. It’s one reason why I’m no good at fashion. New style? But I was just getting used to this one!

When trends and fads emerge, my response is usually ‘egads, no.’ But then they creep into my subconscious and slowly, slowly take root in the compartment of my brain that houses all the things I find acceptable.

1980s revivals (how many have there been now? Is anyone keeping a tally?) keep bringing back the shapeless, boxy dress with elasticised waist. With repeated viewings, my feelings about them shifted from ‘ugh, you look like someone’s nanna’ to ‘that doesn’t look half bad on my very stylish pal’ to ‘in the right fabric, that could be comfortable and sophisticated in an understated sortofa way.’

Do you see where this is going, dear reader? Please don’t judge me. I just wanted a quick project to work on last week.

Enter: erstwhile ingenue and now yoga-maven, Ally McGraw.

With her jaunt side-ponytail and white pumps, this vixen is imploring you to visit 1985, is she not?

Being of a statuesque and pear-shaped sort with very little in the way of shoulders, I remained wary. If it didn’t enhance my human A-frameness, it could be a cunning way to use up some bits of fabric that are too lightweight and drapey for more fitted frocks. So I thought I’d test it out with something I didn’t much care for.

Enter: bright green floral crinkly cheesecloth.


Ignoring the ugly fabric that is too garish even for my tastes, it does indeed confirm that loose frocks make me look like my year 7 English teacher, an awkward brick house spinster type who took a lot of time off one year with a bad case of shingles. That was unkind. But unkind too is this dress, to me, so I’m just lashing out at those who can’t retaliate, completing my momentary return to year 7. It’s too unpleasant for me to put on again so Headless Esme is doing the modelling. It’s a shame because it has great pockets.

Next project, please!