When does eccentricity segue into costume?

In theory, I love polka-dots. They are so graphic and playful. I have many fond memories of them. Once, when I was about thirteen and on a summer holiday in the company of two cousins, we all bought matching multi-coloured polka-dot tank tops. We thought we looked ace. In fact, we must have looked ridiculous. (What a pity; I don’t think any of these photos still exist.)

In practice … I am uneasy.

I wore the dress above out once. I felt conspicuous. On reflection, I think it was its prettiness that unnerved me rather than the fact I resembled a walking optical illusion. I am uncertain that orange sunglasses, silver sandals and metallic turquoise nail polish edgify it quite enough. The outfit on the right is obviously pure costume: amusing to look at but utterly absurd as street wear (blue nail polish notwithstanding). The shirt is not only polka-dotted, but it is accordion-pleated!

On reflection, I think it was its prettiness that unnerved me rather than the fact I resembled a walking optical illusion.

Years ago I saw an amazing-looking girl on Brunswick Street in Fitzroy. She wore a long, slim-fitting black dress. Halter-necked, it clung to the waist and then flowed into a long, swishy skirt that fell to the calf. On her head was a floppy straw hat with an enormous, sky-blue ribbon that tied under the chin (somewhat reminiscent of Katharine Hepburn in The Philadelphia Story). She walked with her eyes fixed ahead, gazing into the distance, completely and complacently conscious of the stares. They were her due.

While she did look extraordinary – I had to admire her guts, and I wear hats aplenty – she also looked like an escapee from the set of a bosom-heaving costume drama. All that was missing was a basket of cherries dangling from her fingertips. What she should have done is wear that hat with high-waisted, wide-legged pants in 40s style via the 70s. Maybe some mirror sunglasses. And sharp cheekbones. Offset the sweet and pretty with something defiant or daring.

As suspicious as I am of this dress however, I am not quite ready to say ‘out, damned spot!’ – I just need to find the right scene to wear it in.