A story about colour choice
24 Nov 2006
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In the fashion world, each change of season heralds the promise of something new. There's a new skirt length, a new dress shape, a new neckline. And, of course, a new black. And this year's new black is grey. Don't tell me you haven't seen it.
We all tend to do what the others in our world are doing - the art world, the blog world, the fashion world - we're all emulating each other and adding our own little twist if we can. This is true, and that's the very reason we have 'trends' in art, fashion, design, interior decorating, hairstyles, everything. Those grey shift dresses being shown by more than one fashion house, the beige boot, and the prevalence of grey in general supports the notion that they are all copying each other in some way. Or they all know what each other is doing, and none of them are brave enough to make an opposing statement.
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Of course, living in Australia, we have the whole season thing arse about. While the Northern Hemisphere is rugging up in their grey wool coats and strangely shaped shift dresses, we're wearing swimsuits and sundresses, sandals and shorts. The shops are full of the leftovers from the previous summer in the more developed and more populated half of the globe. We wear what they wore six months ago, because that's what's in the shops to buy.
And we won't be rugging up with the grey until at least May next year. Which gives us plenty of time to knit it early so we can actually wear it the while it's 'in', except that it will be 'out' by then because the UK, Europe and America will be in the summer stuff we haven't yet heard of.
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The major fashion houses were showing a lot of grey this autumn. Vogue knitting, in turn, showcased a whole magazine full of silver-grey cabley jackets and pullovers - the influence trickling down from what the catwalks are saying for the season. Even the Socks That Rock club 's most recent colourway was largely grey and very muted - a great change from the fiery colourbursts of previous months.
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By the way, as I write this post, I am wearing a pair of flanno jarmy pants, a mismatched button down jarmie top, my beaudelaires and a shocking pink scrunchy rightfully belonging to my six year old. It's all high fashion in this joint baby.