About early style memories

I still miss my clown pants. When I was a kid, one of the funnest things I got to do was to design my own clothes. My mum is a fashion designer and she gave my sister and I the freedom to choose what we wanted to wear, selecting the fabric together was one of my favourite parts. I have always been drawn by colour and texture; the buttons, zips, threads, how it all fits in a small and very simple plastic bag before it becomes your most precious item to wear.

I think my clown pants are my earliest fashion design memory, mum hated them but she would go out of her way to make her daughters happy, in that case being against her design aesthetics. The pants were shiny, bright, colourful, fun and very out there. I have never seen in my time on earth one person wearing anything quite like my pants, except; clowns, but not really, unless there was a really stylish clown somewhere thinking to go to fashion week. I don’t think I was especially brave for wearing those pants but I do still remember how happy I was with them and how little I care about others opinions, and I have carried that my entire life.

The fabric was originally design for homewares, it was in my house as my mum used it for a quilt cover fringe, the cover was grass green, the fringe was a purple silk with medium sized polka dots in yellow, green, red, blue and white, so were my pants. It was love at first sight with that fabric, I told mum I loved my bed cover and that I wanted pants made with that very beautiful fabric, she looked at me like I didn’t know what I was talking about, then again I was 7; so most of the world looked at me that way. Mum said that that fabric was not made for pants, I told her I didn’t think that would be a problem, who would care?  I insisted for what if felt like years until it finally happened; she made me a one of a kind pair of shiny clown pants.

My design was simple as restricted by the inelastic nature of the fabric, they were baggy, I chose purple rib for the ankles and comfortable wrist spring with small side pockets, it said “the 80’s ain’t dead” all over it but I couldn't possibly know that, it was 1992, the grunge arrived and colour was going to be shot down really soon, far from my choice. I wore them every time I could. I don’t remember when they disappeared from my closet, but again, I was only 7.

Sometimes the things we like the most come to our lives so briefly they become one unframed picture in a box of mind memories, and today with fast fashion it seems the memory of a favourite piece of wardrobe becomes a blur, sometimes we don’t really want to have the feeling of attachment to an object that is going to fade anyway and yet I ask myself how would it feel to own designer clothes? A  jacket twice the price of my monthly rent, a bag the price of the car I don’t yet own, a named dress, and how would I feel if they disappeared from my closet?  Why do we love objects so much anyway?


And about the pants, I believe I could still pull them off, it sparkles my imagination, I would use a white top, heels and a tailored black jacket with silver accessories.