Styling: Holly Elgeti. Make-up: Nicky Weir using Hourglass Beauty. Hair: Alex Szabo at Carol Hayes using T3 Haircare. Shirt, Lisou. Earrings, Missoma. Trousers, Marella. Rings, Daisy Jewellery, Pilgrim.
Every so often, popular culture tilts on its axis and makes you feel unwittingly ahead of the curve.
It is a rare but significant event, like the passing of Halley’s Comet, when the vagaries of fashion and personal identity converge and meet for a few seconds in a tiny, bright spot that dazzles briefly before disappearing.
It happened with corduroy trousers: I wore them as a child when they were the epitome of cringe and then hipsters made them cool again. When the Twilight movies were all the rage in the early 2000s, my vampiric pallor that had caused me such angst as a teenager was suddenly de rigueur.
Styling: Holly Elgeti. Make-up: Nicky Weir using Hourglass Beauty. Hair: Alex Szabo at Carol Hayes management using T3 Haircare. Dress, Iris & Ink. Jewellery, Daisy Jewellery, Alighieri
So, Christmas is over. But our festive rituals continue. There’s the decades-old ‘leftover surprise’ tradition whereby Tupperware boxes containing drying turkey are pushed to the back of ye olde fridge and forgotten until Twelfth Night. There’s the practice of investing in expensive high-vis Lycra for various sporting endeavours that will never come to pass. And, of course, the folkloric rite of repackaging unwanted gifts (flammable nylon jumpers with reindeer noses) and sending them back whence they came in exchange for something you might actually use (leggings).
Styling: Holly Elgeti. Make-up: Nicky Weir using Hourglass Beauty. Hair: Alex Szabo at Carol Hayes using T3 Haircare. Shirt, Lisou. Earrings, Missoma. Trousers, Marella. Rings, Daisy Jewellery, Pilgrim.
As we approach Christmas, I’ve been reflecting on a year of upside-down normality. Our usual anxieties have been overwhelmed by life-or-death situations. It has felt as if we are in a post-apocalyptic drama, albeit one with more plot lines about antibacterial hand gel than your average disaster movie.
Corona is no longer just a light Mexican beer. Face masks have transitioned from beauty products to health necessities. Frontline workers have rightly received the accolades usually reserved for beloved heads of state.