I thought I would be crazy in what I wore for a while and then become unspeakably elegant and grown up. With that signature style. But I'm 30 now, and I am resigned to the fact that that is probably never going to happen. I am far too much of a Geminian, split-personality, bored easily kind of girl. And that goes for my wardrobe too.
So while it probably wasn't that long ago that I spoke of how me and the denim weren't particularly friends and that I should reconcile myself to that fact (to which you agreed), I now find myself absolutely craving, I mean really yearning for a milky pale, butter soft denim shirt.
(Image via Asos.com)
Kind of like this one by longer and slouchier, a bit more of a delinquent, to wear belted over floral dresses or skirts with a simple pair of plimsolls, for wearing while I am cycling around the countryside, falling into piles of drying hay and fumbling with beautiful farm boys and getting chafed knees and straw in my hair... You know... like I do.
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