Jenny Eclair
See the world through JENNY’S FUN-TINTED LENSES…
Iwas digging around in my wardrobe the other day, trying to find a cardigan I didn’t like, to lend to my daughter. Phoebe is a terrible cardigan thief, and I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to something cashmere, regardless of any number of moth-holes.
Sadly, my wardrobe is not like the closets you see in movies; there is no order, Winter jackets hang over Summer trousers, jeans I haven’t been able to squeeze into for 10 years take up three-quarters of the available space and colour co-ordination is non-existent. Everything, old, new, loved and loathed, is just shoved in together higgledy-piggledy. To be honest, it’s a marvel I ever manage to get dressed at all.
As I rummaged, something I hadn’t seen in years fell out of the jumble and landed at my feet. It was a patterned Marimekko tunic I’d bought in Melbourne four years ago. Now if this makes me sound a bit jet-setter and like
I hang out with the Minogues, I apologise. Fact is, I’d been doing a comedy festival out there and after two weeks of solid gigging, my partner suggested I buy myself a treat, something that in years to come would remind me of a happy time.
Picking it up, I was immediately back to Spring in Oz 2017, to the tram rides and the botanical gardens, to our little 17th floor flat and the bar we went to for dinner every night.
Clothes can be wonderfully evocative, they can remind you of having good times and bad. I have a friend who refers to a certain dress as her ‘frock of shame’, ever since she behaved appallingly in it at a party.
She never wore it again, but she hasn’t thrown it away. It is, she says, a reminder that she never wants to wake up feeling like that ever again!
I have outfits I used to gig in back when I was under 9st and could get away with PVC jeans. I have a hoodie I bought when I briefly attempted Couch to 5K during Lockdown 2.
To be honest, I bought very few clothes over the past year, so finding this long-lost, fancy tunic top was a blessing, something ‘sort of’ new to wear.
Ah, but would it fit? Dear reader… it did! Result !
‘It’s a marvel I ever manage to get dressed’