It’s the end of March, and as much as I would love to feature a spring outfit, I’m too damn cold. Even motivating my husband to come out and photograph me takes a lot of bribing. There’s only so many beers and burgers I can promise to have!
I absolutely love my white fur collar French Connection coat – especially on days like these where we should be sans coats. The brightness reminds me of spring. I was really having a vanity moment coming down those grotty stairs.
Then the front door opens and I am busted by the New York Fashion Police. Busted for wearing too many bright colours. They eyed my bright vintage Christian Lacroix 80s pencil skirt and yellow tights, shaking their heads furiously.
In the next few moments everything gets blurry. Fashion police has me hands up, against the wall. My coat irritates them. “The New York winter colour is black!” – an officer shouts while stripping me and a paparazzi flashed a camera in my face. Hands up, but still a firm grip on my Botkier white satchel.
I’m taken out of the door, wearing just a thin bright animal print Banana Republic blouse. Hiding behind a colourful vintage Hermes scarf and bright Missoni sunglasses my brain was working fast. I can do this.
As I step outside, I snatch the coat from the officer’s hands and run as fast as I can. My good old British Office brogues will not let me down, I knew that. Long gone are times when I take the subway in uncomfortable shoes. I test them for durability, for protesting and running on the streets. As I turn on a back alley, and I’m off the hook. Almost. I forgot the bloody paparazzi would not give up, he pays his bills with drama.
This time, I knew I was BUSTED for real. I was handcuffed and taken in for questioning. A fair price to pay for the freedom to wear all the bright colours in the world. I will not be broken by the establishment. I shall wear as much colour as I like. I will lead this colour revolution till the last (wo)man standing. Join my Tru’ La La!