You know those cultural moments that stick out in your mind? The ones you’ll remember where you were, for as long as you shall live?
Alongside horrible, tragic moments that burn as a memory forever, there are less catastrophic, more trivial incidents that can stand the test of time in our memories, too.
For example, I know that the last time I put on a pair of skinny jeans was on 5th June 2020. I had peeled them off on 18th March 2020, having been at a meeting cut short by the impending lockdown. With nowhere to wear my tight jeans, my Forever 21 blouses or boots, I began favouring the everyone’s favourite pandemic buzzwords: ‘loungewear’ and ‘athleisure’.
I pulled the jeans back on in June - if I’m being honest, to check they still fitted. They felt so alien, so restrictive and weirdly reminiscent of our ‘old life’ that it wasn’t long before they were back in the wardrobe.
Belts and buckles were cast off in favour of comfortable jumpsuits, buttery lycra leggings or cycling shorts, oversized t-shirts, hoodies and Air Max. I also stopped wearing an underwired bra, preferring soft crop tops and cotton bralets.
As we worked, ate, worked out, virtually socialised from our garden flat during what was to be known as Lockdown 1.0, it felt good to pull on items each morning which felt comfortable - and which didn’t require much thought.
For I’ve never really been one to be able to pull a ‘look’ together. Most of my personal style has been shamelessly pinched from my more stylish friends. This is how it goes: they will wear something trendy that I think might work on me, and I will find myself in some version of it by the time they have already moved on to the next stylish thing. I’ve always been on the back foot of on-trend - but very nearly almost there, nonetheless.
The lockdowns multiplied, the months passed and then I got pregnant. I carried a baby to term and then gave birth. Next, postpartum. I bought one or two pieces of maternity clothing but other than that, I stayed in differing versions of the same ‘uniform’ I’d created in Lockdown 1.0, which grew up and down with my changing body. That’s the thing about athleisure. It’s stretchy!
When the baby started sleeping and I had the wherewithal to apply makeup and get myself down to the hairdressers for highlights again, I felt a creeping sense that I should maybe ‘do’ something about my style.
I asked on Instagram for people to recommend fashion influencers to me, so I could pretty much copy them rather than relying on my friends (harder to see these days with a baby in one arm and a precarious freelance career in the other).
Still, I felt that I should do something about the ‘situation’ SOON. I imagined marching into John Lewis for a personal shopper session, of walking out with armfuls of clothes for the ‘new me’. I still had the list of influencers I was going to try to emulate but had avoided checking them out, because of the pressure.
The PRESSURE!
I began to think about how much it was going to cost me to become this ‘new me’. Would the weight of all my incoming new purchases on my bank balance counterbalance the weight on my mind that I didn’t really want to change in the first place?
For months, I’ve continued to pull on my standard go-to outfits, now including a range of beautifully soft turtle-neck jumpers, top-of-the-range nursing bras and designer socks. I love that not one piece of my outfit will accidentally scratch my daughter’s beautiful face. That I feel casual, but at the same time pulled together, especially with my makeup and hair done.
My ‘going out’ outfits are slightly more adventurous. I can choose from a pile of colourful blazers, jumpsuits, lacy bodysuits, various leather trousers and skirts and a range of heels. Whatever I choose, I know the items fit my body and while I might not look show-stopping, I feel good in myself and that is what matters, surely?
I was walking the other day with my daughter, going through a grotty underpass no less, and I just suddenly thought “I’m not going to do it”.
Just that, really.
While I’ve avoided the list of fashion influencers sitting gathering dust in my notes app, I have still been clocking what real people are wearing around me. What Molly Mae pulls on to go for a milkshake, what the group of slightly younger girls have got on as they walk together through the shopping centre. And do you know what? It’s not much different to what I’m wearing, if at all.
I don’t know whether it’s because my every day clothing choices are so similar that it made me feel like it was somehow boring (to whom?) and needed to change (why?) or just because I’m still figuring out exactly who I am as a mum and as Ella, but I actually think I don’t need to change a thing.
So, for now, the ‘uniform’ can stay. We’ve upgraded from Primark hoodies, socks and leggings to Adanola, but we’re essentially chilling in the same gear as we were in 2020.
And I think that’s okay???
Sorry John Lewis, it might be a while before I darken your door asking for your reccos x
Season two of You, Still is out now!
You can listen to it on Spotify, Apple Podcasts or Acast.