So the weather’s turned, finally. Well, sort of. I wouldn’t go as far to say it’s a heat wave just yet, let’s give it a few days. But I have joined the ranks of the barelegged; it’s official, I’m out of tights and sleeping with the window open. Hurrah! I had to release a public service announcement just before the big day, in case anyone was blinded by my creamy shins. No humans were harmed in the writing of this column.
But what to wear during this inbetween season? I’m genuinely unsure. On Saturday I sloped off to Stepney Park with a book, deck shoes on, midi skirt to hand and a sweatshirt in case of the wind. My conclusion: too hot on the arms, too chilly on the legs. The next day, heading to Columbia Road to pick up flowers, I plumped for my rarely worn denim jacket – very 2008, y’know – a midi dress and my trusty jelly shoes, barefoot. It felt extremely boho and very unlike me – cool, calm and relaxed. All things which I am inexplicably not. But that’s what summer-ish weather does, it exposes not only the unsightly whiteness of winter’s past but a sartorial sense overlooked for eight or nine motnhs of the year. That is, the ‘throw caution to the wind and get all my limbs out at once’, type of sense. Which isn’t really that sensible, and about as stylish as your Geography teacher.
My current obsession, and freckle-enhancing weather helper is the midi skirt. Yeah, yeah, I can hear you bemoaning the midi skirt. It’s a weird length, I grant you and often looks better with a heel, unless you’re tall, but it has a particular spring chicken charm that I’m really digging right now. And I haven’t used the word ‘digging’ since Saved By the Bell was on television, so it must be something. The midi skirt saves girls in nice weather from the devils of the ultra-skimpy cut off hot pant, the most unflattering wardrobe apparatus since disco pants. It goes with a snuggly cashmere jumper for chillier evenings, thrown on over a cami. It works with a freshly ironed – yep, that’s the hot thing that lives under your sink – shirt, buttoned up to a mature yet not-librarianish level and compliments socks with sandals, both flat and heeled. I know that itself sounds gross, but bare legs, cutey-pie socks and a good midi skirt with some clod-hoppers is a real street style hot ticket. Which is obviously what you’re aiming for…right?
Either way, I’ve done my edit of the best midis on the market right now without spending too much of the rest of your loan. It’s nearly the end of term and we all deserve a treat. Westfield is beckoning, ladies…