My Mode Evolution

Now that I'm more or less out of my doldrums, let's move on to a more sanguine topic.

The July edition of Instyle magazine plays homage to a woman's personal style. The featured article centers on our style profile which roughly falls under the following five categories : (a) The Naturalist, (b) The Bombshell, (c) The Sophisticate, (d) The Trendster and (e) The Romantic.

After tabulating the 22-question fun quiz, I am predictably bobbling around The Romantic spectrum. Unfortunately, this means my fashion sensibility lies in ruffles, bows and floral patterns. While I have dabbled in some ruffles during my lifetime, I'd need some convincing trying the bows. Well, you never know.....

But, I am guilty as charged when it comes to florally-infused fabric. To say I have a propensity towards the floral is in itself an understatement. I live for and thrive on flowery design. More specifically, I am so gullible when it comes to floral skirts.

Yes, skirts. Skirts of epic proportions. Not those mini or micro-mini, just long-ish or maxi ones that would suitably hide a multitude of sins. I love the Flowy Flowery concoctions - paisley notwithstanding - more than I do wearing a pair of pants. Yes, it has gone to that extent.

But it has not always been that way. Long, long ago when I was an addlebrained teenager, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing one. I was a bit rough around the edges, which euphemistically speaking, I was a tomboy.

However, I am not one of those full-fledged tomboys who sport a crop and disdain everything feminine. I still read Jane Austen and anything of its ilk. It is safe to say I have yet to find an identity that is aligned with my (then) inhibited personality.

Another stumbling block to my road of 'skirtification' was my perceived big body size which hampered any desire to put on a lovely skirt. For some reason, I didn't like my thighs rubbing against one another back then. I attribute it to being self-conscious about my body size and the fact my gait changed as soon as I hopped into a skirt.

Subsequently, the mostly meat-less (and non-Malaysian, I might add) diet, long walks to college and caffeine dependence saw me losing some weight while studying in the States. I was more than ready to try on the skirts that I'd been eyeing at the mall. :)

After that moment, I never looked back. I would hoard anything that remotely resembles a floral skirt. Yet, since working life prevented me from sashaying one at the office, I had to make do with neutrals like black, black and black. I do admit that at times I defy convention and wear some at work, especially after I left the short-lived banking stint.

When we were staying in Holland, I found myself being assailed by aesthetically-pleasing floral skirts especially during the Spring/Summer season (It's just impractical to wear skirts in the winter, even with woolen tights). My favourite one is the Danish fashion line, Noa Noa, with its ultra-feminine cut and soothing pastel hues. Luckily by then, I had lost some of my pregnancy weight and was happy to wear some during our summer sojourns.

Now that I am back home in Malaysia with a mostly sedentary existence (the operative word here is MOSTLY) and a myriad of halal meat and other food to choose from, I realise that I couldn't care less about the rubbed thighs more than I do about fitting into my beautiful flower powers again.

The reality and agony of slowed metabolism.

While my evolution from a fashion Dodo to a girly Confection might be a long-drawn, late-bloomer affair, I am nonetheless satisfied with the floriated results.

A hopeless romantic at heart and a guileless idealist, I'm truly in sync with my clothing style now. You could even say I'm comfortable in my own skin.