Last weekend Lisa and I attended Yasmina’s farewell dinner at Pigalle. Under strict instructions we were told we have to dress up, and needless to say I don’t really need much of an invitation to wear a midi-ball gown skirt. I posted a blurry Instagram of my outfit on the night and everyone seemed to love it, particularly that skirt, so I felt a more detailed post was unnecessarily necessary, and I’m all about that life.
We unintentionally ended up shooting at the foot of St George’s Cathedral, and its gloomy stone walls were perfectly matched to my melancholy noir. Lisa and I joked about how I am actually the mourning widow of an Italian mobster, while Aisha told me I look like a Russian Babushka doll. It’s no myth that we adopt the character we may emulate in an outfit, as that outfit evolves from being a mere #OOTD into a costume. Suddenly my aching back forgot its pain and I was possessed with grace, my cinched waist retaining my often inconsistent posture. I got a little carried away with the character, but I really can’t lie and say I don’t like the final result. Equally when I’m wearing tres dope sneakers I get this unnatural spring in my step and all I want to do is go on a mission. Also, does anyone remember their classmates’ pseudo-confidence on Casual Day at school?
Do you ever act differently according to your outfit?
Scarf from Medina, basic black tee from Guangzhou Clothing Market, midi ballgown skirt made by my mom, Zara heels, clutch purse from the Ladies Market in Hong Kong.
Photographs by Lisa Gabriel