Fragrances for the seasons (and clothing personalities!)

DISCLAIMER: this is a silly and speculative post, just for fun. I have dabbled in making my own perfume before, but otherwise have precisely zero qualifications on the matter 🙂 I would love to know your thoughts, and whether my guesses for you based on your season and/or clothing personality are correct! Drop me a comment.

I woke up thinking about fragrances, how some are cool where others are warm. Some are sensual and sexy, others innocent. This line of thinking naturally led me to contemplate how these scents might pair with the seasons and clothing personalities.

AUTUMN:

Associated primarily with warmth, of course. These are the notes I think of for Autumn:

  • Vanilla
  • Honey
  • Sandalwood
  • Amber
  • Oud
  • Moss
  • Cedar
  • Tonka bean
  • Cacao
  • Cinnamon
  • Ginger
  • Cumin
  • Clove

Exotic, spicy, warm. Burnished bronze. Florals used sparingly, and not as the main event. Certainly nothing sharp.

On the M&S website, I spotted what I suspect would be a delightful Autumn scent: Estee Lauder Cinnabar, with notes of jasmine, orange flower, clove and patchouli. I also stumbled upon Apothecary Warmth EDP: cardamom, cinnamon, cedarwood and sandalwood. Pure warmth. Even the bottle is a beautiful amber colour. Not overtly feminine, a more unisex scent that might be perfectly suited to an Autumn Natural.

What wouldn’t work for this season? Anything too bold or dramatic. This season isn’t sharp, or overtly floral, or loud. I imagine a pure rose scent would be utterly jarring.

I could see tobacco working, perhaps. Leather, suede too, if used carefully. And perhaps something green and herby – tomato leaf, clove, fennel, basil. Cooking spices, too – cumin, clove, cinnamon.

A scent that’s a combination of mandarin, clove & amber would be an interesting, unisex scent for an Autumn. Warm, certainly, with the mandarin giving it a lift.

SPRING:

  • Amber
  • Neroli
  • Lemongrass
  • Peach / apricot
  • Coconut
  • Vanilla
  • Basil
  • Lime
  • Papaya
  • Eucalyptus
  • Tomato leaf
  • Fresh-cut grass

Tropical, bright, sunny. Exotic flowers, not country garden (that’s Summer). Not as earthy or warm as Autumn.

I would be curious about Clinique Happy for Spring: vibrant ruby red grapefruit, bergamot. An uplifting and citrus scent, softened slightly by Hawaiian wedding flower and spring mimosa. Also, Clinique My Happy Lily of the Beach: bergamot, solar lily, ylang ylang, tiare, frangipani, coconut, sandalwood, vanilla, amber. Warm, tropical, exotic florals. Not overtly sexy. Instead: a bright, warm, fun, sunshine scent.

Maybe also sandalwood + jasmine, a classic pairing that I could see working well for Spring. Not as earthy as Autumn, of course. Lighter, more fun.

I’d also be curious about this scent for Spring: DISCOVER White Coconut. According to the website: “Tropical notes of sea-salted coconut and exotic white flowers are lifted by fragrant accents of sweet blossom and iced citrus nuances. A warming base reveals vanilla musks, sea moss and amber.”

I wonder about Lush Karma for Spring, too – warm, joyful, uplifting, not too sweet or warm. This is a scent that seems to have a wide appeal. Some scents, like colours, will be more neutral and balanced; crossover scents will exist. Karma is not too warm, not too sweet, not too sharp. Warm patchouli with the citrusy tang of orange blended to a more balanced, bright scent. Karma makes me think of a joyful sunny day, which makes me think of Spring.

SUMMER:

  • Honeysuckle
  • Cherry blossom
  • Lily of the Valley
  • Bluebells
  • White musk
  • Bergamot
  • Rhubarb
  • Sweet orange
  • Sweet pea
  • Rose
  • Wisteria
  • Lilac

Cool, floral. I think of RHS Sweet Pea, the Body Shop’s Moroccan Rose (which they sadly discontinued). Soft, powdery, too. The Body Shop’s classic White Musk fragrance. Summer is a wildflower meadow, a pretty garden, not a bold bouquet of roses and lilies.

Summer’s florals are best balanced with something else, I believe–something woody or musky–otherwise it’s too sharp. Summer is not vanilla, or caramel, or honey. Too warm, too sweet. Anything with warmth is out unless it’s extremely subtle and is there to balance sharpness. Avoid anything that’s predominantly vanilla. Celebrity scents are usually too sickly-sweet for the cool elegance of this season.

Summer scent perfection, in my opinion (I just wish they did an eau de parfum; I have to make do with the room mist and spray it on my clothes): Flowers by The White Company. “Imagine an early-morning walk through an idyllic country garden. Uplifting notes of just-picked jasmine and pretty rose combine with bright neroli and a hint of warming patchouli for the prettiest of floral scents.”

Patchouli, as a deep, mystical, earthy scent is too much on its own but as a base with sweet orange or florals would work well. For example: Sanctuary Classic EDT. Top notes of citruses and bergamot; middle notes of cardamom, jasmine and rose; base notes of sandalwood, vanille and patchouli.

The mix of scents is vital. Warmth is fine if it’s a very small component and used to offset the sharpness of a louder citrus, oceanic or floral note.

Lavender is a seemingly obvious choice for Summer, but in my opinion it’s a little too sharp on its own.

WINTER:

  • Fig
  • Vetiver
  • Black pepper
  • Pomegranate
  • Frankincense
  • Blackberry
  • Cherry
  • Black coffee
  • Plum
  • Cedarwood
  • Myrrh
  • Tuberose
  • Pine
  • Smoke
  • Leather

Black forest. Woody, crisp; heavier, darker. Can handle a sharper floral. Sexier, sultry, more adult.

Cherry and peony, a fruit and floral pairing, seems to me a good everyday choice for a Winter.

I thought about Lady Million Royal for Winter, too: pomegranate and mandarin, orange blossom, jasmine and tuberose, with musk and cashmeran giving a seductive finish.

I also considered Lord of Misrule; spicy, rich, earthy but also sweet. Gourmand notes of vanilla combined with a smoky black pepper and dark Sumatran patchouli oils. A sweeter, earthy, unisex scent.

For something sexier, YSL Black Opium: “…a blend of light and dark notes that evokes sensuality from the first spritz. With top notes of pear accord and mandarin essence, a heart of vanilla, orange blossom and white flowers, and a base of black coffee accord and cedarwood essence, white musk and patchouli, this perfume is sensual, soft and seriously addictive.”

For something deep, rich and sultry: Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. Notes of blackcurrant, black truffle, ylang ylang, vetiver and dark chocolate make this a spicy, distinctive scent.

What about clothing personalities?

Classic = magnolia, peony. Estee Lauder. White flowers, fresh linen. Subtly romantic. A modern classic: Dolce & Gabbana’s “The One”: lilies and jasmine, lychee and peach, vanilla, amber and musk. Floral, slightly sweet and creamy.

Dramatic = Tom Ford; surprising and perhaps unexpectedly masculine. Tobacco, leather. Scents that someone else wouldn’t necessarily think of as typically beautiful. Intense. Tom Ford Noir Extreme; spicy heat and glowing citrus. Tom Ford Ombre Leather, with its unexpected pairings: a fruity floral reminiscent of honeysuckle with leathery, woody notes and green tobacco.

Ingenue = floral and pretty, soft and youthful; honeysuckle, bluebell, sweet pea. Strawberry, apple. RHS Sweet Pea. The White Company’s “Flowers”. Elegant, light, innocent.

Natural = woody, mossy. Sandalwood, patchouli, cedar. Herby and green, too; basil, thyme. With orange and patchouli notes, I could see Lush’s Karma appealing to the Natural. There’s also more oceanic blends that I would consider for the Natural: sea salt and lemongrass; sea minerals and fennel. I could also see eucalyptus and citrus.

Romantic = floral, but sexier than our ingenue; more overt, more sensual. Blousy. Peony, magnolia, tuberose. Warmth might come in the form of vanilla, honey or amber. Paco Rabanne’s Lady Million: “This is a glass of champagne, bottled.” A modern classic; sparkling fresh florals with an undertone of woodiness. Energising neroli, bitter orange and raspberry is balanced by base notes of patchouli, amber and honey.

Gamine = a masculine or unisex scent, something fresh, citrus and woody. Oddly, I think of the Radox range: eucalyptus with the zesty tang of citrus oil, or their mint and lime pairing. Basil and lime also a good, unisex combination. But citrus notes aren’t enough on their own – the addition of something woody would benefit. Nothing too sweet. Amber better than vanilla or honey.

Ethereal = mysterious, subtle, maybe oceanic. Apple blossom, pear, iris, clary sage, sea fennel. Japanese, white oriental. Reminiscent of a breeze. Elizabeth Arden’s White Tea: Italian mandarin, calming clary sage, sensual sea breeze and fresh Japanese white fern. Subtle musk. White flowers. Fresh cotton.

And how might these two elements pair?

Indeed; how might a clothing personality pair with a season in this fantasy fragrance world?

Summer + Ingénue seems a natural pairing: wildflower, floral, rose. English pear and freesia. Feminine, pretty, light. The White Company’s “Flowers”.

Summer + Natural Ingénue: add woody notes – sandalwood and/or patchouli to the floral. Sanctuary Classic EDT: jasmine and rose, sandalwood and patchouli. Perhaps Clarins Eau Des Jardins: citrus fruits and rose with a woody base.

Autumn + Ingénue: now we want to add warmth to the floral; vanilla, the light woods. Sandalwood rather than patchouli – not as deep and spicy for this ingénue. Maybe honey or caramel. Ilapothecary’s ‘Speak Your Truth’. Mugler’s Angel.

Autumn + Ingénue + Natural: a natural might add more mossy, woody notes.

Autumn + Romantic: warm spicy, sexy, some florals but probably nothing as sharp as rose (which would be more suited to the Winter Romantic).

Autumn + Gamine: spicy, masculine with fruit.

Spring + Gamine: a sporty, unisex scent. Mandarin and basil.

Spring + Natural: tropical coconut, perhaps. An island getaway. The White Company’s “Seychelles”.

Winter + Romantic: blackberry, fig, bay leaf. Tom Ford’s Velvet Orchid. Lady Million Royal, a fruity and floral scent with pomegranate, bold flowers and sensual cashmaran. Fruity, sensual, floral.

Summer + Romantic: fruity, floral, amber. White flowers, jasmine, honey (vanilla might be too warm as a key player). Not as overt or bold. Lady Million, with its neroli, bitter orange and raspberry balanced by base notes of patchouli, amber and honey.

Natural + Ingénue + Gamine: the gamine influence might add a herbal or natural woody note, but with the ingénue added nothing too heavy, and perhaps with something lightly floral in the mix. Think wildflowers, a herbal floral garden.

Dramatic + Romantic: Lush’s Lord of Misrule as a day-to-day scent?

Dramatic: coffee, tobacco, masculine, bonfire, smoke. Bold, unexpected.

Natural + Romantic: Marc Jacobs Daisy – sweet and fruity. Playful.

The combinations are endless – you get the idea!

Scent is so intensely personal, and our choices might change depending on the weather or how we want to feel that day. What fragrances do you wear? And what do you love about them? I would love to know.

The Red Dress Effect

A few months ago, I met up with a male friend for coffee, and to my surprise he seemed disproportionately distracted by the fact I was wearing red. It was just a casual jersey cotton dress (I hadn’t dressed up especially for the occasion!), a shade half way between true red and burgundy. Perhaps he’d read somewhere that when women wear red, it signals romantic interest, and I was inadvertently giving off the wrong signals. It certainly captured his attention, and his reaction in turn made me curious; when I returned home, I started googling.

As a colour analyst, I know that colours have meaning. Red can signal danger, passion, even aggression. In China, it’s considered lucky. I also know that it’s a colour people typically tend to shy away from. In colour sessions, it’s the colour most likely to intimidate, the colour most likely to elicit comments of concern and of protest. My therapist told me that, in training, they are advised not to wear red as it’s a colour that can come over as aggressive. We know that red is a colour associated with romance, evidenced by the plethora of red hearts in shops around Valentine’s Day. What had passed me by until recently, however, is something called ‘The Red Dress Effect’.

It’s interesting to note, too, that we’re not talking about ‘the red t-shirt effect’ here – there’s something about the femininity of a dress, the way dresses are typically cut to enhance the female figure, rather than a red t-shirt and jeans (for example) that seems to enhance the effect. And a red dress, paired with a red lip, is a powerful combination. A note for the Naturals, here: if you’re like most Naturals I know, lipstick as a daytime look feels too overdone. My tip for adding colour, without looking ‘made up’, is this: apply lip liner to the inside half of your lips, and then use lip balm to smudge outwards (rather than lining your lips with it). I have found that wearing lip liner in this way makes the look more wearable while still adding colour to the face. I can also recommend tinted lip balm for this purpose. Pairing a red dress with a red lip really enhances the effect, directing attention up to our eyes.

A few weeks later, I wore a true red dress on a visit to London; my sister and I were visiting a cat café and I’ll admit I hadn’t given much thought to the colour of my dress (no more than usual, at least). Two things struck me as we navigated our way to our destination – firstly, I was acutely aware of standing out in a sea of grey and black. Secondly, men were definitely noticing me in a way they hadn’t before, and at times I was openly stared at, a fact I could only attribute to the colour I was wearing. Cue more googling on my return home, my attention officially piqued.

Scientists hypothesize that the reason this phenomenon exists could be social conditioning or evolution: red is a colour that has historically been associated with fertility, and many female primates signal their readiness to mate when oestrogen rises, causing blood vessels to dilate which results in their faces turning red. In humans, blushing can be a sign of romantic affection. Various studies have shown that, on average, men rate women who wear red as more attractive.

A friend of mine had a similar experience recently when she wore a floor-length red dress to a show in London. In her words: “This dress is weird. It’s somehow elevated me from being a fairly normal woman to someone who gets people stopping to stare at them in the street. On the walk here, I got some open compliments from women just walking past. And a few dudes just staring openly.” I will also add that she received a compliment from the legendary Joss Stone whilst at this show, proof if ever it were needed that the red dress effect is real.

Of course, as a colour analyst, I will be the first to say: the shade of red you wear matters. I wear true red and burgundy (with caution, these days, it must be said) but when I don orangey-red (too warm for my cool undertones) I look predictably awful, as demonstrated here:

Not to say I look ‘ugly’ (whatever that means; a blog post for another day!), but what I experience when I look at this photo is a discordance that’s uncomfortable. The colour competes with me. When I pay attention to my own body language whilst looking at this, I notice I’m frowning. What I detect, when I wear the wrong (bright) colour, is that whilst people might see me, they struggle to meet my eye, distracted as they are by the colour. This was most obvious to me on the day I did my style experiment. It was, frankly, agonising.

For comparison, here is me wearing the correct shade:

As you can see, there’s harmony. Yes, I’m wearing a bright red, but our attention is directed up towards my face.

I’d love to know about your experiences with red. Do you wear it? Or do you avoid it? Have you noticed the red dress effect for yourself? Are you tempted to wear red and see what happens? Drop me a line in the comments – I’d love to know!

My seasonal wardrobe review (a.k.a. more decluttering!)

With the weather turning cooler, I combed through my wardrobe yesterday, excited for autumn and for the opportunity to wear boots again. It’s so helpful to remind myself of what I actually own, and usually I find that I largely have what I need for the coming season, having purchased items previously (and subsequently forgotten about them).

Oh how I love the clompy boots + pretty dress combo. This super comfy pair are by Fly London, still available at Next.

During this particular wardrobe review I got rid of a handful of items including, notably, two new dresses and a new top. I’m always interested to know why I’m getting rid of something, especially if it’s not been worn much (or at all!) and this time the answer was clear to me: each and every item I put in the charity bag was a colour mistake. The first item was a navy maxi dress with a pink floral print. The pink was just too warm for me, and even though the pattern was small and the warm pink band on the hemline as opposed to near my face, it was still too distracting.

The second dress was a Vinted purchase and suffered from a similar problem. The main colour, a dusty rose pink, was one of mine, but the coral paisley pattern was too warm and distracting. It was a dress I’d tried on several times, felt too self-conscious in, and subsequently taken off.

The top was too cool, a very dark navy that belonged to Winter but that I could pull off, as a Deep Summer. However, whilst the colour looked fine against my skin, the rest of my wardrobe didn’t have the saturation to be able to support this item. After hanging on to it for well over two years, I finally had to admit defeat.

Yes, the colour analyst makes colour mistakes! When that happens, I’m always interested to delve into why. The navy maxi dress was purchased during the summer when I was panicked by a possible heatwave and the fact that I only owned dresses that required leggings. It wasn’t a dress I purchased because I loved it, it was something I bought because I believed I needed it, and then never wore.

The Vinted dress was a bargain and not something I would have paid full price for. It was clear to me that I’d made the decision on price, not on how much I loved it or even how much it suited me. It wasn’t terrible on me, but it simply wasn’t good enough.

I do love Vinted, though. I find it’s most useful when you’re replacing much-loved (but worn out) items from a brand you’re familiar with. Earlier this year I managed to replace my beloved (but falling-apart) brown leather satchel bag from Jones Bootmaker for a mere £8 in as new condition, a 10th of the price I paid for mine (new) many years ago.

I got rid of a few old bits too, items of clothing I had once loved and had hung on to for this very reason, but really were past their best (not to mention too small). I was surprised by how much I struggled to let go of a navy embroidered tunic I had worn so much it now had holes in it.

To my surprise, I found myself whispering, “thank you, I loved you, I have to let you go now…” as I placed the tunic into a bin bag. I think I’m more sentimental since losing both of my parents earlier this year, more attached than usual to items of clothing I wore prior to their deaths. I hadn’t previously prescribed to Marie Kondo’s practice of thanking things until now, but yesterday I did just that.

When getting rid of much-loved items, albeit those that have holes under the arms and are definitely too tight across the bust, I have to remind myself that I’ll find things I love again. A scarcity mindset leads to a wardrobe full of things that don’t quite work. My most successful items of clothing have been colour-compliant, stylistically correct impulse buys that I fell in love with. And this reminds me of something I’ve known all along, but I needed reminding of yesterday: where possible, we should be buying items because we’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with them. Sometimes the mistake we can make is not buying something we adore (and can afford) because we don’t (yet) have an occasion for it. In those instances I would implore you to buy whatever it is that you’ve fallen for, because I can virtually guarantee you’ll find a way to wear it.

UPDATE: I hit ‘Publish’ on this blog post and thought to myself, “This is a very very long shot, given I bought that navy embroidered tunic 10+ years ago now, but I will just check Vinted on the offchance…” I am absolutely dumbfounded to report that I found that exact tunic, ‘worn once’, in precisely my size… I’m not usually one for an emoji in a blog post, but sometimes only a shocked emoji will do: 😲😲😲!!!

A more personal post

The last eighteen months have been difficult.

In January 2022, my dad was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer. In January 2023, he died. All the while my mother, whose challenges with vascular dementia were becoming all too evident, needed more support as my father’s health declined. After he passed, my family and I had to provide round-the-clock care for her for two weeks before she could go into a home that could properly cater to her needs.

At first, in those early months after Dad’s diagnosis, writing fiction was my escape. Once a week, on a Wednesday morning, I would eschew real life and instead drink coffee at a café on the edge of the River Stour with a group of other writers. Sometimes I wrote fiction, sometimes I penned letters to agents to see if I could drum up interest in my work. A productive morning, always.

But then my dad died, and the words dried up.

With Dad gone, I spent many hours caring for my mother. As I got dressed on those days, it was interesting to notice the amount of effort I’d put into the outfit I was wearing, how I’d bother to apply a little makeup, wear my hair down in waves, when the only person I’d interact with outside of my home was my mother who is so far along her dementia path now that she seems to be living on another timeline entirely. She no longer knows my name, the day of the week, where she is or who I am in relation to her, but every time I visit she will have some compliment for the outfit I’m wearing.

Dressing myself has been the only channel of creative expression that’s remained open to me. I’ve been shopping more, at times almost obsessively; I always drop into flow when I’m planning an outfit. Thinking back, I suppose it’s no great surprise. In 2006, after my sister was involved in a car accident (the injuries from which she would die from, over two years later) the way I kept myself relatively sane when driving to my new job (a 45-minute commute) was to think up outfits. On those long journeys to specialist London-based hospitals, I would maintain some semblance of calm not by reading fiction or studying, but by leafing through and earmarking clothes to order in the fat catalogues that my mum used to receive in the post.

As the idea for this blog post came to me, as it started to form in my head, I wondered why I was writing it, why I felt the compulsion to publish it given it’s much more personal than the stuff I’d share here usually. I think the most honest answer I can give is this, and it’s twofold: we all go through rough patches, sometimes long and arduous, sometimes unthinkably devastating, and I wonder if someone else reading this going through their own Life Shit might feel hopeful that there can be some small day-to-day way of experiencing pleasure in the darkest of times (not least because, whether we like it or not, we usually have to get out of bed and dressed to face the world). Secondly, I have always felt compelled to tell the truth. This blog post sparked as a result of reading a blog post (by my wonderful friend, Cait Flanders) who told her truth and in doing so inspired me, in this small way, to share mine.

Sometimes, the best way to tell the truth is to tell it in a story. But because I have been preoccupied with life stuff, writing fiction–which had been an amazing source of escapism before my father died–doesn’t appear to be available to me at the moment. I struggle to maintain the focus required to read my own work right now. But, I am able to plan an outfit.

I’ve always battled with the fear of criticism that this interest in colour analysis and personal style is vain, trivial, frivolous, at worst even narcissistic. But here I find myself, yet again, grateful for the way we can express ourselves through what we wear, that such an outlet exists. That, in troubled times, it has been there for me. I hope, if you are struggling yourself right now, it might be something you can lean on, too.

Another Summer Natural Ingénue Outfit

I don’t get out much these days. Since the pandemic I’ve been working from home most of the time and I spend much of my life in pyjamas or “lounge wear”. It’s no coincidence, then, that my desire to put together an outfit has grown given I rarely have an opportunity to wear “something nice” (you could argue I should be making these opportunities for myself, but I appear to have become a hermit since the pandemic – anyone else?)

‘The Hermit’ tarot card print t-shirt (RedBubble); perfect for an Ingénue Natural who spends most of their days either at home or at the supermarket 😉

I think this outfit (below) would work for both a Natural Ingénue and an Ingénue Natural. With a few tweaks, it could work for a Natural Romantic; just add some statement jewellery and some chunkier, sexier boots.

Grey boots: From Pavers, these slouch ankle boots are shockingly comfortable. Also available at Next.

Knitted dress: Hand-knitted from Etsy, hence the price. No good if you’re allergic to wool, but otherwise gorgeous.

Ring: Amethyst set in sterling silver, another find from Etsy.

Tights: From Calzedonia and only £6.50 excluding postage.

Purple dress: A-line, slim fit purple dress from Amazon.

Pendant: Sterling silver mandala pendant. Comes with a choice of chains in various lengths.

Celestial hair pins: Three-piece clip set from Etsy. Great if you like to wear your hair up.

Bag: Leather-studded bag from Next.

Brown boots: Suede Spanish riding boots from Rydale.

Let’s talk about vanity

This morning, I told my friends about a new pair of trainers I’d treated myself to. My innocuous comment resulted in this blog post when my friend admitted she hates her trainers. “The ones I have are bright pink,” she told me. “I know it’s vanity really, but I just hate pink.” She went on to say: “I feel conscious of them the whole time. I don’t need that much headspace taken up by my shoes!”

Well, quite.

There’s little worse than feeling self-conscious or irritated by what you’re wearing. When I did my style experiment back in 2015, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I felt so self-conscious and uncomfortable the entire day that I couldn’t fully concentrate on my job.

In order to focus, to do the work that matters to us, we need to be comfortable. In a physical sense, yes (I hark on about comfort a lot when helping clients declutter) but also comfort in our own skin. And that includes paying attention to what we wear.

“The way we dress is a silent way of communicating with the world. It’s how we tell people who we are before we get the opportunity to speak. And, historically, women haven’t always been given that opportunity.”

As someone who sees the value in personal style, I will debate anyone who says that caring about how we look is pure vanity. Besides, why can’t we admire an outfit or our make-up in the same way we’d admire art or a pleasingly cohesive design? The way we dress is a perfectly valid and creative way of expressing ourselves. It gives us confidence. It’s a silent way of communicating with the world. It’s how we tell people who we are before we get the opportunity to speak. And, historically, women haven’t always been given that opportunity.

Besides, who are these people accusing others of vanity? We have long been shamed for caring too much about our appearance, or for caring too little. All with the intention of keeping us small.

“She doesn’t make an effort.” “She’s high maintenance.” I don’t often swear on this blog, but I’ll make an exception today: it’s all bollocks. And let’s not forget that what’s considered attractive changes. The only way we can ‘win’ is to dress for ourselves.

I think the word ‘vanity’ is thrown about carelessly by those wanting to undermine others. But there’s nothing vain about wanting to feel comfortable and confident in your own skin so you can get on with the vital business of tearing down the patriarchy.

“Getting my colours done will restrict my choices.”

Today, I’m in the mood for some myth-busting.

One of the questions I sometimes hear people ask is this:

“If I have my colours done, will that limit my choices? Will you tell me I can’t wear <insert-colour-name-here>?”

The short answer is: no. Firstly, I will never tell you not to wear something (that choice is yours and yours alone; I’m not the colour police). Secondly, if you love a colour that much, there’s a very high chance it’s one of your best. Thirdly, the sentiment I hear expressed again and again after a colour analysis session is: “I didn’t realise I could wear green / pink / yellow / red…” (the list goes on).

Most of us know of one or two colours that suit us but, prior to having our colours done, we have no idea of the sheer range of colours that suit us. Colours that have previously been considered impossible to wear suddenly become available; we just need to know the right shade.

To demonstrate my personal experience of this, I trawled through many old photos and came up with a palette that reflects the colours I used to wear.

Brown, khaki, black. I stumbled on some of the lighter Summer colours by accident: lilac, dusty blue, silver grey. I was actually surprised by how limited my wardrobe was. But, overwhelmingly, those were the colours I wore.

Regular readers of this blog will know I’m a Deep Summer; that is, the deepest colours of the Summer palette suit me. These are the colours I wear now.

My wardrobe is chock full of these deep, cool colours.

And these aren’t all the colours in the Summer palette, either. I would love to find primrose (Summer’s version of yellow), raspberry (a pinky-red that isn’t Winter’s fuchsia), plum (a mid-purple), periwinkle (a soft cornflower blue) and forest green (a deep teal that doesn’t contain too much yellow).

Each season is a veritable rainbow.

Warm seasons have shades of blue, cool seasons have shades of yellow, and all seasons have their version of black.

I’ll be totally honest with you: once you’ve had your colours done and you’ve seen how good you can look in the shades that make you shine, it’s frustrating when you can’t find them in the shops. This is the only ‘downside’, if you can call it that, to colour analysis. There’s nothing to say you can’t buy colours that aren’t in your palette, of course you can…

…but, I don’t. And, after you’ve seen how good the right colours look, you might not want to, either. So what does this mean in real terms? (I’m obviously not walking around naked half the time because I refuse to wear black.) It means I own an awful lot of navy. Which is absolutely fine; navy is one of my best colours. I would rather a wardrobe full of navy than a wardrobe full of khaki and brown which made me look sickly and emphasized my acne scars.

It’s easy for Winters to find black and grey in the shops, and easy for Autumns to find olive. Springs have it slightly harder, but can usually find their creams and greys. Navy is an easy Summer neutral to find. And, luckily for us, there is Kettlewell Colours, a company dedicated to solving this problem (this is not a sponsored post). Their styles won’t suit everyone, but the range of colours they sell is seriously impressive.

I know I hark on about scarves a lot, but for good reason; they are usually inexpensive and can be found in a huge range of colours and patterns. Especially useful now, when we’re on video calls more than ever and people are only really seeing our shoulders and above. A scarf thrown over a pyjama top can take us from oops-I-overslept to competent professional in just a second (obviously not talking from personal experience *cough cough*).

These bright, warm colours should work well for a Spring.
Fuchsia pink will make Winters shine, especially those who suit the brightest colours in the palette.
My Autumn friend has this scarf and it looks amazing on her.
I own this batik scarf myself, and I love it. Great for a Summer who suits the deeper colours.

Being a mid-teal, this colour should suit everyone.

What palette is yours? What colours can you wear that you didn’t think you could? Perhaps it’s time to find out… 🙂

Summer Natural Ingénue

I miss Polyvore. I miss it so much that today, after going on a bit of a spending spree, I ended up creating my own ‘board’ in Photoshop.

Maple Tiered Dress from White Stuff: https://www.whitestuff.com/womens/dresses/dark-teal-maple-tiered-dress/

Watch: https://www.watchshop.com/watches/ladies-continental-watch-16601-lt101831.pdp

Amethyst ring: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/807384654/natural-amethyst-ring-floral-ring-purple

Silver pendant: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/651174262/925-antique-silver-pendantsterling-solid

Bag originally from Jones the Bootmaker and no longer available, but this bag is just as gorgeous: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/688722847/leather-crossbody-bag-pyrography-rustic

Leather crossbody bag pyrography rustic saddle leather bag Brown tooled

Boots featured are almost identical to my suede lace-up ankle boots from Fat Face, but these are just as lovely. I love the brogue detail: https://www.pavers.co.uk/products/leather-brogue-ladies-ankle-boots-belita32003-318-839

Legwarmers: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/739782001/rustic-blue-leg-warmers-knitted-chunky

As an extra bonus, I think any jewellery featuring the gemstone labradorite would look gorgeous with this dress, such as: https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/754598042/labradorite-boho-silver-necklace-925

Labradorite Boho Silver Necklace 925 Sterling Silver Labradorite

P.S. Not a sponsored post 🙂

When Spring becomes Winter (wait, what?)

A few weeks ago, a friend revealed that her Spring colours no longer suited her. Yesterday, I draped her to find out exactly what was going on. Helena was first analysed in her 20s and now, over a decade later, she was finding that her warm, bright colours no longer worked.

Needless to say, I was fascinated. I had been taught that people simply don’t change seasons, that undertones don’t change in the course of a lifetime. We soften and desaturate as we age, so a move from, say, True Summer to Soft Summer isn’t impossible. But to change season completely? Not possible. So I was told…

I had no idea what to expect when I arrived. What I did know was that I believed her. I wondered if, quite logically, her colouring had softened and she had moved into Autumn. I wondered if she was on the edge of Spring now.

I noticed immediately that she looked good in the white cover cape. I began to drape her. The metallic silver drape was obviously better than the metallic gold. My brain tried to argue. How could that be so?

I started to compare Winter and Spring. It quickly became clear that her skin couldn’t tolerate any warmth. A logical assumption might be that, as she’d shifted from a warm season to a cool season, she might be on the warmer end of Winter (leaning towards Spring). But no! She was a True/Cool Winter who looked best in emerald green, fuchsia pink, electric blue and, shockingly, black. I did a double-take when I put the black drape on her – it is rare that even a Winter looks so in focus in the black drape (often, charcoal is better).

Холодная-зима

I tested drapes from every other season, as I always do. Autumn made her skin look muddy, Summer made her whole face look grey. Even burgundy, a colour shared by Summer and Winter, was a bit too grey in comparison to Winter’s cool red.

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Autumn’s dark olive drape; not flattering on those with cool undertones

You might think that her initial analysis can’t have been right, but that was never my belief: firstly, she was analysed by a reputable company but secondly, and most importantly, she could see that those colours were perfect for her at the time. She saw the transformation herself, lived in those colours, received the compliments, felt good. Then, years later, those compliments stopped. Looking at herself in more recent photos, she can see something isn’t right. In her words, “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

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Helena in Winter’s fuschia drape; much better! Look at how sharp the edge of her irises are

As we worked through the drapes, I could see that the Spring colours were the least flattering on her. My mind was blown. She laughed: “I’ve been wearing the wrong colours for the last 10 years!” How disorientating it must be, to be so confident in your season only for it to change. But she knew something wasn’t right, even if that “wasn’t possible”.

I was told that, while our colouring might soften with age, we wouldn’t ever change season. To hop from a bright, warm season to a bright, cool season? Impossible. Looking back, I realise I should have questioned this claim. Where was the evidence? Were clients re-rated years later to see if they were indeed the same season?

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Winter’s emerald green – another fantastic colour on her

Helena is slap bang in the middle of Winter. She hadn’t softened in any way, she didn’t even lean towards Deep/Dark Winter. All traces of warmth had simply disappeared from her skin. On a big, fundamental level, her undertones had changed. But she hadn’t lost saturation. Not at all.

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Black has never looked this good!

Helena, used to wearing Spring’s bright colours, told me that Winter wasn’t a difficult transition. Although, as she had lived as a Spring for so many years, she was, in her words “absolutely back to square one.” She told me: “I could literally put my entire bedroom–wardrobe, drawers, makeup, jewellery–in a skip.” She told me that she found it “strangely disturbing” to realise, over the years, that her Spring colours no longer suited her. I completely understood.

This has to be the most interesting draping I’ve ever done, and the lessons from it will stay with me forever. When it comes to human colouring, anything is possible. Huge thanks to Helena for allowing me to use her photos for this post, and to Catherine for taking them.

Building a capsule wardrobe? I have some advice

I popped up to London recently to drape a client who wanted to know her colours in order to build a capsule wardrobe (for those interested, she turned out to be a Deep/Dark Winter – I’ve been draping a few of those lately!). Her questions about capsule wardrobes got me thinking: there’s so much advice online, and so much I don’t agree with 😉 Here’s my two pennies.

Be wary of prescriptive lists of ‘must haves’

Firstly, the lists online that say you need two blouses, a pair of court shoes, two pairs of jeans etc are, in my humble opinion, of very little use. Sometimes they serve as inspiration, but in my experience they’re too individual to be useful, and they often assume a certain kind of office-based lifestyle. What could you do instead?

Make an ‘occasion’ list

In the course of a year, what occasions will you need to dress for? My list includes: weddings, horse riding, work, swimming, yoga, meals/drinks out, sleeping and exercising. Sometimes they overlap – I often do yoga in my PJs!

Let discomfort be your guide

Physical discomfort can be a useful indicator of items you’re missing. Shoulder aching because your bag is too heavy? Then you probably need a smaller, lighter one. Feeling cold? Perhaps now’s the time to invest in a jumper.

It can also be useful to take note of what you’re wearing a lot, the items that you rush through the wash to wear again. Would you benefit from having another? If you’re stressed when it’s in the dirty laundry basket, then the answer is probably yes!

Don’t panic

If making a list of items for your capsule wardrobe feels too overwhelming, start by picking just ONE item you think you need. And remember that building a capsule wardrobe is a process – you can keep revising it until it works for you. You don’t have to buy it all at once, and you definitely don’t have to get it right first time.

Allow yourself to fall in love

It’s so easy, when thinking about a capsule wardrobe, to get caught up in the practical – is it comfortable? fit for purpose? will it go with everything else I own? My advice here is this: allow yourself to fall in love. Trust me – those items you love will be your workhorses. As I said to a client recently: if you want to dress like an off-duty Bellatrix Lestrange, then do!

If you’re struggling to feel the love amid the overwhelm, I’d recommend using Pinterest to make a board of anything that appeals to you. As you pin things you’re drawn to, you’ll start to see a common aesthetic.

Get a colour analysis

As a colour analyst, of course I’d say this. But if you’re serious about building a capsule wardrobe, your clothes are going to have to work extra hard for you. Firstly, they all need to co-ordinate (if you’re buying clothes in your palette, they will) and secondly, you want to make sure that the few items you have look great on you. Knowing your palette makes shopping SO much easier and quicker, because you can immediately discount the colours that aren’t yours.