My One Hundred

"I have NOTHING to wear. Well, I could wear that but I'd have to wear a cami under it because that bloke Geoff is such a perve. Or I could wear that but it would be too hot for the afternoon. Or I could wear that but it's a bit tight around the arms. Or I could wear that but ... "

But, but, but.

For so long now, I’ve been struggling with my wardrobe. It’s been a lifetime tussle, and a really silly struggle to have. A wardrobe should function. A wardrobe should simply work. It might also be fun, and be satisfying, and be beautiful, but primarily, it should work.

I should be able to open a drawer, reach in, grab something, pull it on, and walk out the door without having to think about it. Well, that’s what I think, anyway! (Maybe I'm just lazy?)

Surely, there are much more important things to think about (and, no, not just shoes).So here I am, obviously, devoting an entire blog to it. Yeah, the irony. Shouldn’t it be easy? Dressing sure seems easy for some people: the ones who always look comfortable, the ones who seem completely prepared for the weather with just a flourish of a scarf or a turn of their collar. Meanwhile, the rest of us spend our day constantly pulling tops down, hitching trousers up, tweaking shoulder straps, tugging at collars, and adjusting lapels like a bunch of costumed apes with nervous disorders.

Of course, there’s always that little law of the universe that says that if something looks effortless, it’s only due to the skill of the person performing it. A circus performer makes the difficult look easy and natural, and makes the easy look like a work of art. The circus performer example is very close to home for me, as I’m certain that my wardrobe mistakes have made me look like a complete clown on many more than one occasion. I look back to the horrors of my twenties and cringe. I’ve never looked better, or worse. What a waste of thin thighs! What a waste of a waist! Can I just blame the 80s?

In desperation at getting my wardrobe in order, I’ve looked at capsule wardrobes (more on them later), instigated the 18-month rule (more on that later, too), googled my little heart out, and read Nina Garcia’s handy little books, The Little Black Book of Style, The Style Strategy, and The One Hundred.

"The One Hundred" is subtitled, "A Guide to the Pieces Every Stylish Woman Must Own". Now, I don't think I'm anywhere near the level of style this book describes, but I am trying to make things easier on myself, using "The One Hundred" as my guide. This blog is going to go through each item of Garcia’s One Hundred and how it has related to me. Not to an 18 year old uni student. Not to a New York socialite. Not to a London banker. Not to a country town mother of three. Just me.

By way of providing a bit of personal context:

• I am Australian, living in Australia. I use Australian English, which includes everyday words which non-Australians would call slang. For instance, “cossie” is short for “swimming costume”, which is your bathers, swimwear, trunks, togs, swimmers, etc, etc. If you need to look up a word which you suspect might be slang, see here or here.
  

• I’m an adult. I will probably be swearing in this blog when circumstances call for it. For instance, if you take offence to the occasional f-word (not "fashion"), read no further.
  

• I’m a professional inner-city dweller. I contract from business to business. I like diving, skiing, theatre and food. I go on the occasional holiday and road trip “up north”. I drive. I backpack.

• I don’t work in fashion. I don’t and can’t spend tens of thousands on clothes every year. I don’t own any haute couture, not that I don’t admire it deeply. I live in a small Australian city without access to such fashion heavens as Harvey Nichols or Bloomingdales. Finding the perfect thing is not always easy in a town overloaded with chain stores. It’s not that there aren’t brilliant designers and fresh fashion talent here (There is! And it’s wonderful!), but a small and isolated population can have a hard time supporting the variety seen in larger cities.

• Nina Garcia's books have been a great help and inspiration to me and this blog is not negative criticism of Nina Garcia’s work, her personal style, or her person. It’s my view and experience of the items in her One Hundred. Ms Garcia does say in her book that the list is her list of essential pieces, and that it’s not going to be the same for everyone. We are urged to think of what our personal One Hundred would be. And that’s what this blog is about. To each their own. To quote the woman herself, “There is no ultimate list.”

• I hate ironing.