She's Got The Look

I was feeling a bit low on Wednesday evening. I'd had a rough couple of days and had tried to cheer myself up on Monday with a spot of shopping, but got it horribly wrong with the Lying Smock from the Evil Shop. By the time Gab* arrived on Wednesday I was despairing of ever finding a suitable outfit to wear to my book launch, only eight weeks away (which, in Arranging-Outfit days, is mere nanoseconds).

Gab, in her usual style, walked in and took charge. (Which is perfect, because that's exactly why I hired her. Being fairly incapable of taking charge of my own life, I need as much assistance as possible.)

"Let's have a look here," she said, browsing through my wardrobe. "We're after something very Fashion Forward. You need a Look."

"What about these?" I asked her. I took out my purple-and-green-striped armwarmers, bought two years ago and never worn, mainly because they are hideous. They were, however, very Fashion Forward. (At least they were two years ago.)

Gab looked at them and frowned. "No," she said. "They're not right." Then she brightened. "Perhaps try wearing them on your legs."

I slid them over my ankles. They worked.

"Yep, loving the colour," said Gab. "Very Fashion Forward. But can we brighten it up a bit more?"

I thought for a minute and grabbed some purple platform heels. "These?" I asked.

"Excellent," she said. "But do you have anything in a contrasting colour?"

I grabbed my orange hoodie. "Divine," said Gab. "But it's still missing a little something...."

I pulled an ornate scarf out of my drawer (not knowing exactly how it got there) and tied it around my head. And then another in leapord print, which Gab tied around my neck.

"Perfection," Gab told me. "Now all you need is a bag."

I searched my wardrobe and came up with something spangly. And I looked in the mirror. Sensational.

Still, there was more experimenting to do. I changed my shoes, and tried a more Parisian look, with a man-style cordoroy jacket (manstyle because it was actually a man's), a flower pinned to my tank top, and a pink-and-white beret** worn at a rakish angle:

But my personal favourite was....well... see for yourself.

So not only do I have The Look for my launch, I now have a new fall-back career. Because if my literary career fails, the world of modelling and fashion design clearly await.

With my babysitter by my side, I'm going to take on the world.

*My long-haired, tattooed, foul-mouthed babysitter (also Private Investigator, Makeup Artist and Barista) who comes to my house two afternoons a week and is the best thing ever to happen to my family, though so far we have only used her in three of her four capacities
**Okay, it was a shower cap. Who the fuck has a beret these days?