Individual style from the Isle of Wight
I spend a lot of time browsing Tokyo Fashion. Those Harajuku kids know a thing or two about curating a head-turning look for the street style spotters to coo over. But being stylish isn’t solely the preserve of the young.
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Over a surprisingly-short time Matt’s beard became less Jeremy Corbyn and more Grizzly Adams. It was as conspicuous from the back as the front; sticking out in sideways tufts either side of his head like a lady’s luxuriant pant moustache. When the time came for an overdue trim, he knew where to go.
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Do you remember when part-time Isle of Wight resident Alan Titchmarsh was all over the telly and it was proclaimed that gardening was the new sex? Or how about that time we eschewed broccoli for almonds as the new superfoods. Well, continuing the theme, we’re declaring that middle age is the new black. Or something.
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All you young kids, with your ‘washed up mermaid’ locks and Katy Perry-influenced brights, may not remember a time when hitting the hair-dye bottle meant either Bet Lynch-style brassy blonde or Mrs Slocombe’s patchy pastels.
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Back in the day – before a trip beyond the Earth’s atmosphere was in the reach of (wealthy) space tourists – life on the moon was imagined via the programme Space 1999.
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There’s a joke that’s made on the Isle of Wight every March, when the clocks change, which is: “Don’t forget to put your clock forward – to 1952”.
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Back in in the late 1980s I was watching Top of the Pops with my mum. On came Madonna’s ‘Express Yourself’ video and, as she watched the American songstress writhe, crotch-grab and simulate sex in her trademark style, my mother snorted “When’s Madonna going to get a proper job?”
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Frayed, fringed, textured, distressed. I’ve a penchant for Dickensian-raggedy-urchin stylee clothes. Put it down to Jack Wilds Artful Dodger being an early style icon perhaps.
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Current favourite monochrome floral cigarette pants from a local store ‘Luchelle’ £25 #bargain (6 Pier St, Ventnor, Isle of Wight). I do love local small fashion outlets as you can always find something not-on-the-high-st and a little bit other amongst the frocks for ladies that cruise (no, not in that way).
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Too young to be a proper punk …. but after school my friend Carol and I trundled up the Central Line heading for the Marquee Club … where I am sure we saw lots of famous punk bands but always had to leave early to trundle back suburbward.
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