In my mind, there is no ‘new black’. Not pink, not red, not denim, not anything. There is only black, and it is timeless and perfect, and I love it. I am told by magazines that black can be draining and unkind to ageing skin. I don’t care. I still love it. Black is Urban. Elegant. Mysterious. More importantly, badass.
When I first got out of school and went to work in New York, Norma Kamali and Donna Karan were my fashion heroines, and EVERYTHING they did was black (it was the early 90’s) so that time period is sealed in my brain in the way that your Style gets set (and sometimes frozen, unfortunately) in certain eras. The convenient thing about black is that if you have a lot of it, your whole wardrobe goes together. I had the choice of either having a nervous breakdown (sort of) or taking a year off in 1995. Since that was an easy decision (I opted for the year off instead of the breakdown) I decided to travel around Europe by myself for a year. I took a black blazer, a few black knit dresses, a pair of black pinstriped palazzo trousers, black heels, black tights, a black scarf, a black cardigan, black biker boots, black sunglasses, and a pewter coloured leather backpack. Everything went with everything, and nothing looked dirty or coffee stained, because, you know… black. I look back on the photos from that year, and the clothes still look good now, because black doesn’t date.
Just because it is spring time, and there are tulips and daffodils on every patch of lawn, that doesn’t mean I’m going to start dressing like a handful of sugared almonds. Nope, you’ll see me in plenty of black on the blog, four seasons out of four. Not exclusively, but frequently.
I recently discovered another blog that I like to read, and when I found this post, I sort of fell in love. See what you think. She says everything I want to say about spring black.
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