The antithesis in trash because it's the epitome of class.

People say that 'style is something you're born with' and I quite agree.

For me, style is rooted in comfort and having the confidence to let your personality, charisma and craic do the talking as opposed to your rigid as fuck new 'Mom Jeans' which honestly, flatter NOBODY! Not even the models.

Constantly tugging on the hem of your dress (for fear that you're exposing too much thigh) is nothing but an outright nuisance to the amazing night you would otherwise be enjoying. My youth was spent crippled in (very) high heeled shoes, the instep's were nothing short of a vertical ski slope, infact they were an actual crime against anthropometric law.

A thoroughly rotten realisation is that I have more memories of the recurring crisis of whether to unleash my swollen plates of meat (feet) for a moment of bliss knowing full well that I'd eventually have to squeeze them back into their torturous coffins of cheap PU (saturated with a layer of black dance floor tar).

I, like many women / men at that impressionable age had simply succumbed to fast fashion and the desire to be 'trendy'. True style is not giving two fucks about this because your life is spent living through your experiences (comfortably) to have a spare second to consider or care about what is ''de rigeur'. There is absolutely nothing wrong in following fashion, don't get me wrong, it's as admirable as rejecting it. But I have always found those who I admire stick to the same foundations; tweaking it ever so slightly as new trends evolve, never letting their personal tastes drown in a pit of this seasons must-wear Vogue edit, and if the must, just lightly touch upon and incorporate new elements for no other reason but to freshen things up for themselves, nobody else.

What all these women share is a simple elegance. Their clothing is clever and discreet with an element of mystery, is it high end or high street? I doubt they care as long as it fits, flatters and lasts them a lifetime.