On the heels of Paris Fashion Week and in the wake of our finally returning to functioning like humans and not fashion robots, the flood of street style images that have been inundating our browsers and brain-feeds beg a really important question, prompted by photos not unlike the above, which features one girl in green hair and white goat trim.
So, what’s the biggest fashion risk that you’ve ever taken?
Now, I’m not sure if you’re wondering where my response falls but I’ll offer it anyway. I think the biggest fashion risk I ever took was the first time I paired skinny jeans with a t-shirt.
Lol. Just kidding. Lol again.
Looks like I left my sense of humor in France, eh?
As far as previous pursuits can go, the dumbest risk I’ve ever taken was in high school when I cut myself bangs and looked like a cross between Justin Bieber and a human mop (which come to think of it, is just one entity, isn’t it?) for all of three months before they finally grew long enough to stay tucked behind my ears. The biggest risk I’ve taken was probably this one time when I wore black and white argyle socks with leopard print sandals, a pair of cropped green polka pants from Topshop, under a yellow peplum-style skirt by Miu Miu and a grey sweater.
I’d put it together for Man Repeller but never ended up wearing it for the site — just for dinner with my tight knit social circle (grandparents and parents) who gawked. In my opinion, I looked like London which, as far as I’m concerned, made the outfit a bona-fide score.
On a related topic that begs another question I’m going to ask: earlier this week I wanted so badly to pair a mid-length full red taffeta skirt with a grey cashmere sweater, ripped skinny jeans and heels. Admittedly, I’d culled the inspiration from one Yasmin Sewell who looked absolutely breathtaking doing just that at the Chloé show in Paris with a black skirt by the label, frayed jeans and a green satin blouse.
When it came time to test drive the trend myself, did I do it? No. Why? Because I felt like a copy cat which also elicited a sense of self-consciousness. It was really lame. This got me thinking about all the outfits that could have been, swimming in an abyss that now seems unreachable. Those outfits are like ships that have passed in the night just by virtue of our fashion balls refusing to drop.
Consider my stint with the anterior an imminent fashion risk I — mark my word — will take in the near future. But now I ask you — do you have any of those, too?
So, just to summate, there are two questions you have to answer: What’s the biggest risk and what’s the biggest regret? I have to know. Absolutely have to. Go, go, tell me, go!