Fictional Fashion Icons vs. Uniform Dressing

I've been feeling baffled and frustrated that my style is not easily defined, neatly curated, nor particularly, um, stylish. But when I tried to make a list of my style inspirations from all the way back in primary school to nowadays, as prompted by some style questionnaire I was looking at, it suddenly became clear to me exactly why I may never have a single clothing rack of smart neutral basics, as much as I may appreciate how much a simple uniform would streamline my days.

You see, my list of fashion icons and inspirations, roughly chronologically, looks a little like this:

- Claudia Kishi

- Stargirl

- Tibby Tomko-Rollins

- Alex from T*Witches

- Mia Thermopolis (books NOT movies! Actually that goes for all of the above...)

- Willow Rosenberg

- Emilie Autumn

- Tank Girl

- Luna Lovegood

- Drew Barrymore in the 90s

- The entire cast of Whip It

- Karou (Daughter of Smoke and Bone)

- Mab Graves

- Amanda Palmer

- Patti Smith

- Keira Knightley

- Helena Bonham Carter

I don't doubt there's a few I've forgotten here, but that's about the shape of it I think. In fact, I know there were others, and it's going to seriously frustrate me that I can't remember them all. Not sure how I never put this together before, but the styles I have generally admired aren't exactly tidy and sleek. I appreciate fun and joy and chaos and imperfection.

I miss 90s celebrity style, where people actually looked like they chose their own clothes and maybe made mistakes but enjoyed the process, when teenagers weren't impeccably groomed and glamorous, when it didn't seem so much like there was a right and a wrong way to get dressed. The media probably still ripped them to shreds just the same, I guess, but it felt all a bit more relaxed to me. And yes, I realise that 90s styles are in right now, but to my mind it's somehow not quite the same... It's a bit more overstyled, deliberate, ironic. Or maybe that's just my age and cynicism showing.

Can I also say that as a youngster I loved The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and Stargirl so, so much that I never read the sequels because I needed the characters to be perfectly preserved in my head and heart exactly as they were... Might have to get down to the library and have myself a good old binge read of those as well as many of these old favourites. (You're talking to someone who nearly exploded with joy when Carolyn Mackler wrote a sequel to The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things over a decade later. Someone who is now writhing in horror because I just came across a Travelling Pants spoiler whilst trying to find a Tibby-description to link to in this post. Drat and double drat!!!)

Is it normal to have fictional fashion inspirations? I'm not sure. It's not necessarily all that helpful, though - fictional characters are static, their tastes and opinions are not real and therefore not subject to influence by their surroundings, they don't have to interact with the real world or worry about shopping, fit, storage or clothing care and maintenance. It doesn't hurt to have a paragraph in a novel inspire an outfit - but in the past I've tried to use it as a basis for a lifestyle. Maybe this works for some people, but historically it hasn't for me.

Another issue I have is that nowadays I find myself drawn almost equally to the exact opposite of these whimsical styles, as I alluded to at the start of this post. I'm intrigued by the idea of 'uniform dressing' and by the super-simplicity of pared-down capsule wardrobes. Sometimes I feel pulled in opposite directions by these two aesthetics, which are by their very nature the complete opposite of each other. (I know you can create a capsule wardrobe from bright and quirky items, but the aesthetic that appeals to me for this look is very simple and clean - lots of linen, denim, black and beige.)

The drawbacks of whimsical chaos are that it requires me to make a lot of micro-decisions every day; I often have a tendency to misinterpret unspoken dress codes and feel over- or under-dressed; because some items or looks are very statement or simply loud I receive a lot (a LOT) of unwanted opinions and feedback on my outfits; when out and about I can tend towards self-consciousness or feeling uncomfortable; it encourages overshopping because it tends towards a maximalist aesthetic; outfits may have components which are less comfortable or require a lot of managing; I don't feel as grown-up, attractive or elegant as I would like or sometimes as though I'm stuck in my most awkward childhood and teenage years, so it doesn't do a lot for my self-confidence. I also find myself not really having an honest answer to questions like, "Do I still actually want to dress like this or is it just what I've always done? Do I actually like these clothes or do I like being recognised as 'the quirky one'?"

The drawbacks of a streamlined uniform are that I can feel constricted or bored very easily; that it is harder to be creative or playful; I feel oddly as though I am betraying my past self; it is harder to find and choose wardrobe items and I can end up either overspending on individual items or not being able to source what I think is the right thing, and feeling paralysed or stuck - I feel that if you have a limited selection of items they need to be perfect and this can be really quite difficult, particularly as my weight fluctuates. My trip to Brighton also showed that despite my best attempts to follow or devise formulas and make well-thought-out purchasing decisions, I don't always understand myself well enough to get it right, which feels more high-stakes with a fifty-item wardrobe where any errors in judgement make the whole thing less manageable and can't be blended in like they can in a larger, more eclectic wardrobe. Also, perhaps this is just a personal quirk, but having a stripped-back aesthetic can put more focus on face and body (e.g. feeling like I need to make more effort with make-up to avoid looking unfeminine or boring) which can feel intimidating and not all that helpful. I also find myself worrying more about whether I appear stylish to other people.

Perhaps there is no right answer. I recently had my bra-strap-length hair cut into a chin-length bob, and whilst objectively I think that length is a touch more flattering on me I was surprised it doesn't actually make a huge difference to how I look or how I feel. I had been anxious about cutting my hair and really attached to the idea of having long hair, but I find I don't miss it or even particularly think about it. This was disappointing at first, but then it became quite liberating, because it meant I didn't have to obsess about my hair or attach part of my identity to my hairstyle. I can change it up whenever I feel like I want a refresh. More to the point, I realised that there really is not an objectively perfect hairstyle for me 'out there' somewhere that I am failing to find. If only I could figure out how to apply the same logic to clothes!

Is there a way I can create a wardrobe that is playful and wild but also simple and effortless? 

Also, some more bits and bobs - firstly, an article of mine in the October issue of ev0ke Pagan and lifestyle magazine is available to read online here.

Secondly, a five-star review for my upcoming book from blogger Stefanie at Owl's Rainbow - you can read here.