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thinks fash­ion can be as cruel as a Bad Boyfriend.

Ihave only ever had one Bad Boyfriend in my life. This is pretty for­tu­nate, be­cause we all know friends (or show­biz girls) who have had noth­ing but BBS. This is not only tire­some for the girls them­selves, but for those who love them. See, the rule with a BB seems to be that ev­ery­one else can see he’s a cad, but you u can­not.

And there’s no pointint be­ing smug if you’ve never fallen prey to one, be­cause Bad Boyfriend syn­drome doesn’t justst hap­pen in hu­man form. For ex­am­ple, I pre­fer to think I capped my BBB count at one be­cause e I learnt my les­son so well, I never made those mis­takes again. n. But that is the very smug­ness I just warned ned you about – and it begs gs a tough-love re­tort. Some­thing like: “If you’re so good at learn­ing life’s ife’s lessons, how do you ex­plain fash­ion?”

Ah. Yes. There’s a lot of the BB about fash­ion. on. Just when you think k things are go­ing great, at, “farshun” will throww a party at which ev­ery ry hot young thing in the neigh­bour­hood is s pre­sent, but to whichh you are not in­vited. This is known as The Crop Top or Denim Cut-offs. Wher­ever your phys­i­cal in­se­cu­ri­ties lie, fash­ion will sniff them out and ex­pose them. Which, iron­i­cally, means you need to cover them up. It may be your soft un­der­belly; your thin lips; your over­plucked eye­brows that never grew back; youryou short legs. The fact is, like an u un­faith­ful lover, fash­ion will alwa al­ways duck and weave and chase th the new, leav­ing you stuck at ho home sob­bing over a glass ofo whiskey only slightlysligh smaller than the muumuu you’re wear wear­ing, think­ing, “Wh “What did I do wrong? W Why did he stop lov­ing me?”me And yet, som some­times the amaz­ing hap­pens.h Oc­ca­sion­ally, a fash­ion trend is so de­light­fulde­ligh and looks so good on ev ev­ery­one that it is ir­re­sistible. For in­stance, in 2017,2 it seems as though notn a sin­gle wo­man in A Aus­tralia owns a top that cov cov­ers her shoul­ders. Even if i it’s not the full “I’m a milk milk­maid, come to the tav­ern lat later to watch me pour jugs of mead in a comely fash­ion for sw sweat­ing sailors, who I will then carouse with to a rol­lick­ing tun tune”

off-the-shoul­der num­ber, it will be the more so­phis­ti­cated “cold-shoul­der” cut-out, with a tan­ta­lis­ing flash of skin. And what a gift that has been. See, EV­ERY­BODY has shoul­ders. And EV­ERY­BODY’S shoul­ders look sweet peep­ing out from a dress or top. And it makes EV­ERY­BODY feel good to be able to play the game of fash­ion to­gether and to feel a little bit racy and, as my mum says, “with it”.

Which is why it’s go­ing to come to a sud­den, screech­ing, painful end.

Much as sum­mer has drawn to a close, and au­tumn is mov­ing in, the shoul­der sea­son is over. Our BB wants to move on. He is bored with our scapu­las, our clav­i­cles, our ro­ta­tor cuffs. He wants to see other body parts. Who knows what hor­ror that may en­tail? A neck-to-knee cat­suit with the knees cut out? Arse­less chaps?

See, that’s why we love him. He’s so un­pre­dictable and dan­ger­ous and wild. He makes us feel alive. And who knows? One day, even­tu­ally, surely, he’ll want to set­tle down. Kate co-hosts Hugh­esy & Kate, 4–6pm week­days, on the KIIS FM Net­work.

“Wher­ever your phys­i­cal in­se­cu­ri­ties lie, fash­ion will find and ex­pose them”

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