Buttercup's Frocks

… to Westfield to see the new Star Trek fillum. Which was an absolute hoot. There was a tribble! There was a passing reference to Nurse Chappell! There was Leonard Nimoy! And Benedict Cumberbatch, (who I have seen on stage, bitches, pre-Sherlock), was the baddest badass, like, ever. In other words a Good Time was had.

I was sorely tempted to wear a thrifted bronze lurex outfit in which I was once told I resembled a Romulan attending a formal on the Starship Enterprise. 

(Oh, alright. If you insist.

I think I look more Vulcan to be honest. Or possibly one of the aliens from Galaxy Quest).

Anyway, instead, I wore lots of pink.

Who says a Trekkie can’t rock florals?

I’ll have you know I never venture into an unexplored galaxy without my faithful copy of Conversational Klingon in my bag. (Can I just talk about the bag? I don’t often fork out serious dosh on one. In fact I’m the furthest thing from a bag snob it’s possible to be. Oh, I care what my bags look like naturally, I just don’t understand why anyone would spend thousands, or even hundreds, on one when there are so many perfectly adorable bags to be had for considerably less in charity shops, T.K.Maxx, designers’ sample sales and/or Accessorize. The most I’ve ever dropped on a bag is £70 – once on my sample sale Orla Kiely, and once on this butter-soft printed leather Liberty job via T.K.Maxx. A case in point as it started life at £650. It’s lovely but for that kind of money I’d expect a night in Claridges with Josh Holloway and a bottle of  massage oil, heavy on the ylang ylang thanks very much). Just kidding about the Conversational Klingon, by the way.

So, remember the plum and teal pattern mixing I promised you? Didn’t work quite as well as I hoped but here it is anyway. Because there are still quite a lot of things I do like about this outfit even if the skirt and the tee don’t quite jive. (Hey, who am I kidding? They’re barely on speaking terms).

I’ve had this Vikki Vi skirt for aeons; about ten years in fact. I’m sure it never used to be this long but, even though I’m careful about the way I store it, it has slowly achieved its ambition to become a maxi. Or maybe, since I was still in perennial Lagenlook mode back then, I just might not have noticed it was one. Whatever I still think the print is amazing and still enjoy wearing it…just probably never again with this top. The lilac tights are by Pamela Mann. They’re one of two pairs I bought off eBay. The other pair were shite. Seriously the crappiest tights I’ve ever purchased. They rolled down – as in right down – before I got to the end of my street. I had to pay 20p for the privilege of yanking them up in the public loo at my local tube station, which I had to mince to with my knees clamped together because the fuckers were by this time dragging my drawers down with them. They only stopped falling down when I yanked the waistband up  as high as it would go and pinioned it under my bra. Even though these fit like a dream I’ve since heard similar stories about Pamela Mann so, despite them offering some very nice colours and prints, I shan’t be buying another pair.

But while I’m on the subject of the top, here’s a couple of turn-ups for the book. The tee is an XL from H&M’s non-plus size range, which isn’t something that happens to me a lot. Secondly, the sweater I’m wearing underneath it, which is made of warm but über-fine merino wool, is an XL from The Gap and also fits just fine. Since I scored it for £4.99 from a charity shop, I’m thinking it’s either a man’s one despite the weird mini-cowl neck, or it’s from the US. Because nothing in the UK Gap has a hope of fitting me. I really like the two of them together though I’ll definitely be wearing the tee on its own come summer. Now let’s talk about my sunnies.

Lacroix, sweetie. I scored these suckers from T.K.Maxx in the doldrums of subzero snowbound December for eleven quid; they allegedly started life at two hundred. (Though I’m inclined to think they might have started off at two hundred dollars because T.K.Maxx are a bit swizzy like that). And while I’m not especially a label queen, I do have a thing about big badass sunglasses that make me feel like a rock star.

This tradition goes back to a huge, hexagonal, frameless, ombre pair I bought in haste and out of necessity the first time I visited America’s Deep South as an eighteen-year-old freshly initiated contact lens wearer. Having worn a succession of hideously unflattering specs from the age of 6, and hailing from a land where overcast skies are the norm, I’d never owned a pair of sunnies in my life. On my return to the UK my best girls informed me they made me look like a celebrity and all started clamouring to have a go on them. I was gutted when they fell to bits about six months later.

My rings were both gifts and alas, I can’t remember where my mirrored bracelet came from. Probably Evans or Dorothy Perkins in some sale or other. I’m also rocking some purple lippy which, apparently, is all the go. It’s an old one by F2 and rejoices in the name of Junky. 

…well, all apart from my fab new bug ring from the Les Néréides sample sale, (a steal at £15). All the same I really like the way the elements of this outfit came together.

Considering I only paid seven quid for this skirt I’m getting no end of wear out of it.

I have no idea why I look like I’m going to put a spell on you (because you’re miiiiiine!) in this picture. Why yes, I do like Screaming Jay Hawkins; doesn’t everybody? Wanna see my bug ring? 

The only thing that would make it any cuter is if it was red. I almost bought the matching earrings last year. I never even knew there was a ring until now.

I don’t really have to tell you these remixed-a-bazillion-times shoes came from Clarks, do I? I live in the bastard things. When they wear out I shall wear black arm bands for a year. I shall also haunt eBay until I find a replacement pair because they are so, so comfortable.

Thanks for looking, tumblr. Some teal and plum pattern mixing coming your way soon. Toodles!

Just a quickie this evening, tumblr. Mainly because these pics are nothing to write home about even thought the outfit looked pleasing enough on the day. As you can see the day - last Saturday to be precise - was unseasonably warm if rather windy. (Alas the same can’t be said about today; got the electric blanket cranked up even as I type). No matter which setting I tried on the camera, everything came out mega contrasty, plus I’m squinting in every single one on account of the dazzling sunlight. (Note to self: remember shades).

Anyway, it was all about the purple. My new purple dangly earrings that I scored in the recent Les Néréides sample sale, which I attended with my colleague Helen a couple of weeks ago. Being perennially borasic I’d resolved to give it a miss but the day after the sale was supposed to have ended I got an email saying they were extending it, that there were many 80% off bargains to be had and that they weren’t averse to a spot of haggling if one were to buy several items. Argh! Hard to resist or what?

Even though these 60s style danglies are plastic, (albeit beautifully mounted plastic), they started out at something preposterous like £95. These cost me a tenner. If I’d known in advance that the fittings wouldn’t irritate my ears, I’d have bought another pair in peach or turquoise because I love them so much.The heavy perpsex femme fish brooch, which I think is from their younger N2 range, cost me a paltry three quid. I also bought a couple of rings which will make their debut in due course. What I didn’t buy was this pendant, which started life at something ridiculous like £150 and which I could have scored for £22.

You can’t imagine how much I wanted it. (Okay. Maybe you can. Look at that cute lil’ kitty faaaace!) In fact I wanted to kick myself all the way home for leaving it there because I know I’m unlikely to ever get another chance, let alone at that price. But it would have been quite difficult to wear with the vast majority of my wardrobe, and I’d already spent money I shouldn’t have so I Did The Right Thing.

I’ve had this Avenue frock for five years and thought the earrings would compliment its absurdly OTT print a treat, particularly with its pops of royal purple. I thought the dress was pretty out there at the time I bought it but it seems to have come of age of late. Because it’s made of quite thick polyester satin it’s too warm to wear in high summer but it makes a great dress for between seasons.

Get used to my orthotic friendly Hotter Shake shoes. You’re going to be seeing a lot of ‘em this summer in several different colours. eBay for the win.

Thanks for looking, tumblr. Gotta go before the wind blows me right off Neil’s roof!

So here’s an interesting quote I came across on the Channel Four website today. It has nowt to do with my outfit by the way – that’s just some pretty to go with the thinky.

A recent survey … showed that women take their plus-size clothing cues from other women over fashion magazines, celebrities and TV shows. That means, ladies, that you are a discerning bunch who won’t be influenced by fickle trends, but more by what your friends and family are wearing.

Discerning we may be, Channel Four, but that’s not why we give the mainstream fashion press a wide berth. And you can be as interested in trends as you like but if the plus size manufacturers haven’t picked up on them this season you’re stuffed. As Bethany Rutter asserts in this public health warning review of the forthcoming Clements Ribeiro holiday collection for Evans, (don’t, for the love of sweet fluffy kittens, read the comments unless you need a crash course in concern trollery)

“All UK fashion journalism is written by slim people for slim people, so there’s almost no point reading magazines if you’re fat”.

Plus, on the rare occasions those journalists are coerced into addressing fat people at all, they say things like, “a sexy pair of earrings or a beautiful necklace draws attention away from your thighs” (yep, that’s another genuine quote). Hence the exponential rise of the fatshion blogger. Even the less politicised among us are tired of being told to Cover That Shit Up by people whose worst fear would be to look like us and be shunned by arseholes like themselves. The other reason so many of us fat sisters are doin’ it for ourselves is because we get to see clothes in our size modelled on genuinely fat bodies in a broad spectrum of shapes, which gives us some kind of an idea what they’d look like on ours. Which brings me to this other interesting quote by another UK fatshion blogger, Becky Brown, on her day spent in an ASOS Curve focus group earlier this year.

“We raised the issue of the models with the Curve team, who told us the models have their own custom made outfits in their size, Bree the blonde model is a size 14 and that is the standard size they use for their Curve models as this is plus size in the model world. Tash told us that this was something that came from above them, they still need a girl that fits with ASOS and has the right look, and in the UK there is a lack of models who are bigger that could do this.” 

Strewth, what a crock! Evans didn’t have any trouble locating a whole bunch of young, hip, attractive, actual plus-sized women to do justice to Clements Ribeiro, did they? Guess we all know what “right look” is code for then even if the Curve range does start at size 20. Perhaps the significantly smaller-than-the-demographic models having their outfits tailor-made also explains why the hemlines are always eight inches shorter than the hemlines on their frocks in actuality. A fact which, until I got wise to it by asking around and seeing them on other fatshion bloggers similarly proportioned to myself put me off ordering them multiple times. But hey, the ASOS Muse has to wear her skirts up round her navel because fashion must always be aspirational even if it results in your company losing money hand over blinkered, fat-phobic, dimwitted fist. 

Hey, want some more pretty with your rant?

Why, yes, I am wearing an amazing, moulded and gravity-defying brassiere with this slinky little number. It’s a Triumph and cost me £6.99 in T.K.Maxx last summer. I bought two. I wish I’d bought half a dozen; they make the girls look fiiiine. And is this a print or a print? Looks like Wyndham Lewis and El Lissitzky got completely shitfaced one night and decided to design me a frock. 

Okay, ad break over. Now back to the matter in hand. Up until quite recently, plus size manufacturers swore blind that, even though fat women expressed a desire to see their offerings modelled on actual fat bodies, their sales plummeted every time they tried. Fugly, uninspired clothing notwithstanding I’m inclined to think that’s because there’s such an enormous gulf between the aforementioned aspirational imagery and our own fat reality that we couldn’t deal with our own reflection. But I think, thanks to the internet, that’s starting to change. While it’s as seething a hotbed of fat hate as it’s ever been, the web has also become an abundant and inspiring source of positive images of fat female bodies over the past few years. As we become more visible and the fatshion blogger begins to permeate the mainstream media, (yes, yes, the younger, prettier, smaller end of fat, but fat just the same), I think we’re less inclined to be shocked at what we see and more inclined to give ourselves a break. If that were not the case I doubt Evans would have co-opted the help of the fatshion glitterati and where they lead, hopefully, others will follow.

Laters, gators.

…this über cute lion pendant by Little Moose. Raowrrr!

As soon as I bought these orthotic-friendly perforated pink brogues from Clarks I knew exactly which dress they’d be making their debut with. (But Buttercup, I hear you cry, you are overdrawn up to your earholes. How come you were out buying shoes? Simples: I sold Deanne a beautiful pair of decidedly non-orthotic-friendly vintage Hobbs peeptoe platforms…and bought these with the proceeds. No harm, no foul, right? Anyway Deanne made me do it. Also, hello? bubblegum pink brogues omg!)

I bought this frock when staying with my lovely friend Jude in Oakland CA a few years ago. It’s a little big on me now so I have to wear a belt and cardi with it, (plus it could have done with an iron prior to these pics being taken), but it remains one of my very favourites owing to it being quite the most obnoxious print in my wardrobe which, as you might imagine, is saying something.

Incidentally I discovered this week that the coloured tights you may peel off my cold, dead legs, are neither age nor body appropriate. No, honest, it’s true. Random nobodies on the internet with an inflated sense of their own influence say so quite vociferously, so it must be. Also the wearing of said tights is a delicate and scary operation requiring immense courage and sartorial skill or you will Get It Wrong. In fact the wearing of colour per se is fraught with danger. Here’s a cross-section of random advice you might like to laugh in the face of, fellow fats and old’uns. I sure as hell did:-

• If you choose to wear colorful tights, there are some things you should avoid - they won’t quite match with colorful dresses with big prints; the tights are already coloured. 

• Brightly coloured tights draw the eye down to the floor, instead of up to your face.

• The entire effect of brightly coloured tights has a slight playing-in-my-mother’s-closet feeling of a kid trying to wear grown-up clothes.

• Many mature women find that a small shot of bold color looks most tasteful after 40.  If you throw several wild brights together in one outfit you can look and feel like you belong in a kindergarten classroom! 

• Brightly coloured tights make your legs look huge in comparison to the rest of your body.

• Bright colored tights are best worn by girls with long slim legs; just keep in mind, the thicker the legs, the darker the tights.

• In case you are sporting red tights, ideally the color of the top as well as the footwear should belong to the black family. 

• If you wear colour leggings, please refrain from wearing ten million other colours. Really, colour leggings are colourful themselves already.   
• Avoid wearing tights of the same color as your dress. You can end up looking like a fool.

By far my favourite comment comes courtesy of one Harrods Girl, the blogger behind I Am Fashion, and a fellow Brit to boot. She’s too much of a wuss to wear coloured tights herself but she has plenty to say about them:-

“Just yesterday, I saw a woman who looked at least 45 years old wearing shorts and bright red leggings. I’m not actually sure of her age, but she certainly didn’t look that young from afar. Sure, colour leggings are fun, but isn’t it something that is more for younger women? Is it wrong for me to think the maximum age that anyone should wear these colour leggings is 30? And I don’t mean to discriminate against age, but I just really believe in dressing suitably for one’s age.”

At least 45 years old. The horror. My mum is 75 and she’s been known to rock a scarlet leg from time to time, often with matching scarlet shoes. Poor old Harrods would probably spontaneously combust if she saw the two of us together. 

Up yer bum, Harrods! 

Here’s a dress I never got around to photographing last year because last summer was so short lived – but, hey, it was (just about) warm enough to wear it today with tights and a denim jacket so woot!

It’s not entirely dissimilar to this Monsoon one…

… though, in fact I bought it first. It’s also without doubt the best quality item I’ve ever bought from Evans. Heavy glazed cotton and lined to boot. And the fit is total perfection.

…though that still didn’t stop them making one of those cheap-arse looking back seams which, while it’s rife among most high street chains, I still hate. (Especially as it wasn’t an especially cheap frock). All my scarlet tights are in the wash at the moment so I thought I’d echo my heart-shaped earrings with these H&M tights.

(God, the winter’s done a number on my poor hands. Be assured I just paused to slather half a gallon of L’Occitane hand lotion on them).

I was well chuffed to find this spangly bangle in a West Midlands charity shop on a recent working trip to Brum. It cost £1.99 and the smoky mirror shards lend it a vaguely Andrew Logan air. (And speaking of my fave sculptor, how I wish I could afford this and this).

The other great thing about the sun coming out is I can decent-ish pictures in the shop. 

So, there you go. Short and sweet. Thanks as always for looking, tumblr.

So, I’m a huge fan of Project Runway. The bitchiness and diva strops; the tackiness of Heidi’s wardrobe; the wondering if Marchesa’s Georgina thingummyjig has it written into her contract that she be described as the beeeyoootiful Georgina thingummyjig every time she’s on the judging panel – and, of course, the perennial fabulosity of Tim Gunn. Sometimes I even like the clothes but only one designer has consistently wowed me and that’s All Stars winner, Mondo Guerra. 

I love the playful pop culture aesthetic that permeates Mondo’s work; the boldness of colour and graphic, oversized prints. Plus the guy himself looks like a living, breathing cartoon. Frankly, what’s not to love?But, tumblr, how to channel Mondo when you’re impecunious, sized out of his demographic, on the wrong side of the pond, and on the wrong side of 20 by multiple decades? Well, it took me a while but I do like a challenge – plus living outside of mainstream trends, it doesn’t really matter when I arrive at my sartorial destination just as long as I do so in style.

It started on this occasion with the skirt, which I found on the M&Co sale rack for a paltry seven quid. Needless to say it wasn’t from their plus size range but it’s a size 20 with beaucoups de stretch and an elasticated waist. My friend Karen wasn’t entirely convinced, “It just looks like a bit of fabric, “she said, “though I’m sure you’ll find a way to rock it.” Oh how very well she knows me. Since it was still perishing and profoundly un-springlike, I took it for a testdrive with my old cashmere tunic (pictured above) however, while I quite like the way I accessorised it, it just wasn’t Mondo enough for my liking. But then I lucked out in Debenhams. I seem to be doing that a lot of late.

They were having a blue cross weekend and something made me look at the Henry Holland markdowns.  I have no idea why other than I’d clocked the occasional oversized item. (Okay. One rain jacket. Which I never bought). I certainly wasn’t expecting to find this delightful eye-searingly bright absurdity. As you can see it definitely falls into the oversized category and, being 100% cotton, is perfect for the rapidly improving weather. And owing to the fact it had a pulled thread and was the only size 18 they had left, I persuaded them to mark down the markdown still further to fifteen pounds. Once I got it home I sorted the problem with an extra fine crochet hook in as many seconds, et voila…instant Mondo-ness.

The scarf is one of several hand painted pieces I bought from ex-textile designer turned mosaic artist, Anna Tilson in the early 1980s. When I first paired the skirt and the top together, I did so with neon pink tights and used it to tie the look together.

The jacket, which I thrifted in the late 90s and have only recently started to wear, was something of an afterthought but I think it strikes the right note. It’s vintage Max Mara - 1986 to be exact. (And how do I know this, you ask? Because here I am in that very year wearing a Marina Rinaldi silk shirt in the exact same colour and print…

Marina Rinaldi is owned by Max Mara. And besides, look at the narrow lapels and batwingy sleeves on the jacket. M’lud, I rest my case).

So, there it is. My entirely affordable, retro flavoured, neon punctuated, Mondo-tastic and entirely Buttercup appropriate ensemble. Better late than never, that’s what I say.

So, yesterday, I wore the Best Outfit Ever. However, this is not it because it rained all bleeding day. Consequently photographs didn’t happen. This is what I wore this time last week when I saw some proper sun for the first time since last September.

Things were actually starting to bloom…

See?!

And I was even warm enough to take off my jacket, albeit briefly - but first things first.

Frills and furbelows.

The scarf was a birthday prezzie from my friend Lynne, (a.k.a World’s Loveliest Boss®). I’d been eyeing it up for weeks. She calls it the Angry Birds Scarf because, if you look closely, they do look rather peeved. Not long after I picked it out I discovered that plus-size couturier Anna Scholz had coincidentally used the same print on one of her frocks.

The jeans I’m wearing are the ones I bought in the Evans sale. Billed as straight legs, they’re skinnies on me. They have a little stretch in them, cost a princely £15 and are a size 16, a fact I still can’t get to grips with. If I’d had any idea they were going to be quite as comfy as they are I’d have bought two pairs but they  all seem to have been snapped up in the interim. I’m hoping some might be returned to my local branch by a similarly puzzled size 16 who chanced to buy them online.

Yep, I double-denimed. You may call this a Canadian tuxedo at your peril. I’ve had this jacket for about five years. It’s warmer than my cropped ones but I tend not to wear it because it’s got this honking, inexplicable embroidered thing on the back and I’d much rather it was plain. But I really love the cut and have decided to give it more of an airing.

One of the reasons I wanted a pair of skinnies was to wear them under dresses that feel a little too short and/or insubstantial on me, like this one, which works better as a tunic than a dress.

I’m pretty happy at how this outfit came together.

Thanks for looking, tumblr!

Yep, back again. This is the last of an outfit backlog I’ve been mostly too busy to post (because omg!work, not that my financial sitch is improving any), so it’s actually about 3 weeks old.

It’s not generally known but the UK actually had three dedicated plus-size brick-and-mortar chains until a couple of years ago. Evans; Alexon’s frumptastic Ann Harvey, who cut everything for a client base six feet tall and wide, and Elvi. Until recently I thought the latter had ceased to be but someone must have bailed them out from bankruptcy because, not only has their website got quite a lot of clothes on it, they appear to have re-opened a few shops as well. Regrettably none in London, but since I get around the British Isles a lot work wise, I’m bound to be able to check one out eventually. 

I’ve always found it a tad challenging to get a handle on Elvi’s demographic beyond “generally dowdy and/or older than God’s dog”. As with Ann Harvey, there’s always been an abundance of polyester and little reflection of what’s going on in any non-plus-size-focused high street chain. Viz to wit this horror. And yet, over the years, I have occasionally struck gold. (In one instance literally. I have a black denim over-shirt shot through with gold lurex that I’ve been wearing for aeons). Likewise, this maxi was one of Elvi’s more … imaginative moments. Perverse as this may sound, there are times I feel that being a fashion outlaw has its advantages. Admittedly not as many as it lacks but, as someone who’s never enjoyed following the flock, being forced to dress outside the box frequently leads to an original and satisfying outcome. 

I love the way the brush stroke pattern echoes what’s going on in my shawl, (a gift from my ma back in the early 90s), including three of the colours. Believe it or not this is their first outing together but I think it might be love. Everything I’m wearing is pretty old apart from my trusty red El Naturalistas.

Elvi are having a sale right now and, although I shan’t personally be availing myself of the bargains, (heating bill, council tax, overdraft from hell, yadda yadda yadda), there are quite a few items on the website with distinct Buttercup potential though, of course, YMMV. With some judicious accessorisation, I reckon I could biff up the following no end:-

Yes? No? I have to say I’m especially loving the flapperish vibe of the one with sheer sleeves. I also think there’s a distinct Domino Dollhouse feel to this little taffeta jacket:-

Glam Rock Ringmaster! C’mon! Who’s with me?! 

The embossed velvet shrug looks more like a capelet to me but either way I think its adorable. And I’m loving the Liberty purple tunic with the vintage Biba-esque beading on the shoulder. So, yeah, Elvi. Worth a look for those of us chubsters stuck in the UK any road up.

Now back to my outfit.

Karen originally made the gigantor felt flower to pin on a bag but I prefer it as a brooch. When wearing a high necked sweater I find it serves admirably to relieve the acres of rack.

 My lippy, in case you’re wondering, is Up The Amp by Mac.