FROCK BOTTOM
When it comes to fashion, everyone’s a critic!
Iused to love the Oscars. It was such a fun escapist time of beautiful fashion, incredible hair and make-up, hilarious opening monologues and sassy one-liners.
But these days, awards shows have all become a bit earnest – look at the Golden Globes’ black dresses, hashtags, campaigns and themed pins. Don’t get me wrong, the reasons for all this are absolutely valid, but is a light-hearted movie ceremony based on entertainment the place?
So with the escapism aspect gone, what’s left? Well, I suppose fashion is still there and the red carpet is still the domain of quirky random encounters where you never know who is going to say what. But I do find myself hankering for the Oscars of old. That said, I was heartened to read the Academy asked people not to abide by the black dress code for last week’s ceremony and luckily, most of the fashion was fierce!
My daughter is at the age where she’s discovering fashion and make-up, and becoming quite vocal in her views. In other words, I can no longer get away with wearing anything I like. Not without a critique, anyway.
Sometimes it’s positive. “Oh, nice one Mum, I like your skirt,” and other times it’s a frank and immediate dismissal. “Oh, no Mum. No, no no, that’s all wrong.” Once a small child has looked up at you with disdain and shaken their head at your outfit, it’s hard not to second guess yourself. “Really?” I’ll reply, wondering why I’m taking seriously the advice of someone who still wears fluffy peach dressing gowns. The same goes for shoes, make-up, hairstyles and sunglasses.
In our house, my little girl is all about the fashion. She has a keen eye and will point out looks she likes on the street or online. She will ooh and ahh at floaty dresses and strappy sandals. But she’s also at that age where any offensive hair out of place (of her mother’s) is social death. The other day, I went into her new school and before I could get both feet through the entrance gates, she dove out at me like a tiger.
“Mum!” she whispered fiercely. “Your hair!” She began frantically grabbing at random strands and straightening it up. “That’s better,” she relaxed. “Now you can come in.”
It’s not just a girl thing – my boys have at times made reference to what I’m wearing.
“Don’t come into school in that,” one of my sons would grunt. I never could be too sure what was offensive about what I was wearing – the colour? The style? The fact I was just in anything that wasn’t jet black and completely unnoticeable?
Either way, fashion can be a minefield when you have kids. It pays to just smile, nod and remain confident in what you’re wearing because if you listen to them, you will never leave the house again.
So this Oscars season, the ultimate escape was to frock-watch others in their glorious gowns, without a child in sight to critique whether they looked naff or not.