Basically, I’ve been spending every not-working, not-sleeping, not-spending quality time with family second on two things – Pretty Little Liars and online dress shopping.
It’s my brother’s wedding next month and there’s a festival theme and OHMYGODTHISSHOULDBESOEASYBUTIT’SNOT. I’ve basically decided that I want the entire outfit to revolve around my gold sparkly sequin kimono from Miss Selfridge, because altough it’s a couple of years old, I never get the chance to wear it because, well, it’s a bit jazzy to pop to Ipswich Tesco in, sigh.
I’ve already bought two different dresses – not featured in this edit because sometimes it’s nice to keep secrets, and also because I’m not entirely sure I like either. Which is nice, and not mkaing my belly do panic flips at all. Nope.
The nice thing about being 25 is being in a place where you can tell which dresses will suit you without trying them on. Over the past decade I’ve developed a dress ‘style’, a go-to dress shape that I always opt for time and time again, unless I go mental in the ASOS sale and fill my basket with hip half price drop waist dresses that make me look like I’m pregnant with twins and trying to hide the fact I’m pregnant with twins. FML.
For me, a dress needs to be several things to allow it to stay in my wardrobe for more than a few months (and then I grow board and ship it off to the charity shop or eBay after life). It needs to not show my vagina. I’m looking at you Boohoo and Missguided. A dress needs to cover me up fully, it needs to be able to allow me to sit down tightless without feeling like people might star and point at my cellulite.
It also needs to contain my boobs, which is why I tend to go for a crossover or loose-fitting style, and in an ideal world, it’ll have sleeves too because sleeves are flattering and are an extra layer in fighting the demon cold winds of the UK summer.
I tend to go for two different styles – either a loose smock dress, that’s cosy and comfy and works with tights and ankle boots in the winter and bare legs and sandals in the summer – or I go for a longer midi dress that nips in at the waist to show off the fact that if you look closely, hidden between the bottom and boobs – there is in fact a waist in there, a bit of balance, a bit of woman.
I hate anything too tight, anything that makes me feel self-concious. For me a FANTASTIC dress has to have the ability to make you feel comfortable, yourself, and pretty damn hot even when you’re on your period, have acne and feel a bit like you might have eaten a whole cow.
So yeah, this edit is that. It’s flattering and easy. The sort of dress that make you look chic and on-point even when you’re so hungover you think you might be sick out of your nose. The sort of dress that says HI GUYS, I’M COOL AND READY TO BE INSTAGRAMMED. The sort of dress that just needs lipstick and Primark sandals. The sort of dress you’ll still be wearing three years down the line. The sort of dress that only needs accessorizing with a long pendant necklace and a Daniel Wellington watch.
So, this is pretty wordy for a fashion blogger post, right?
Better get on with it.
Oh, and the top dress? That dreamy peasant number is from Mango, buy it here.