The only thing that has kept me from crying out at having to go through winter twice this year, has been my unexpected style evolution. While I have still retained my avid love of bright colour and headwraps, less prints have been showing up in my recent faves. At first I was so hesitant, as for me fashion, whether we like it or not, is political. My deliberately Afrocentric appearance has caused furious debates at home, drawn appreciation from some friends and odd fetishization from unwanted colonial gazes. But, my personal style was always that, personal, a factor in my becoming, but also an act of undoing the colonial standards of beauty that I had so internalised.
So when I arrived in London, and found that my personal tastes were starting to shift to mainstream fashion, I was a bit hesitant. Almost felt as displaced by my shift in tastes as I was by my move here. But I am now embracing it, realising that I have reached a stage in my life, where I define what I wear and that which I wear does not define me.
It is through this, that I have gained an almost obsessive love relationship with vibrant faux fur coats. Which make me feel like the ultimate bad-bad. Something I had also not anticipated wanting to feel. But…que sera sera!
My favourites in order of preference:
4. Blues (especially paired with vibrant pink)
6. When you decide to wear all the damn colours!
7. Not a vivid colour. But wow, white can be vivid!
Anyway, I am yet to personally find all these colours, neither can I afford to, tbh, but a girl can dream. So far I have found two faux furs at vintage markets , they were relatively affordable 20 Pounds each. One is in brown, the other in a turqoisey green. As you can tell, both make me feel like the ultimate bad bad.