Garden Party

On a warm day in October 2004, I took my mum to the botanic gardens near my home for lunch to celebrate her birthday. Mum is wearing her sensible shades of brown, but I am dressed rather more flamboyantly.

My outfit has a Fifties flavour, owed to the trifecta of hat, scarf and capris. I wore the enormous cartwheel hat by Mimco to protect my delicate complexion; a black tank (since worn out); denim capris (ditto); green suede sandals with grosgrain ribbon ties by Country Road (also departed for the place that beloved shoes go when they die – the trash); a tomato-red, reptile-embossed, patent leather purse by Oroton (tragically RUINED long before its due date by an unfortunate babaganoush incident at a picnic); and a silver sequin scarf still in circulation.

I adored that purse that looked like an envelope. It had a wrist strap which made it so convenient. It has become my Holy Grail of purses, but I have never seen its like since. For a long time after the tragic accident, I trawled eBay for a new one, but I never found one. (Although this one would not be a bad replacement!)

On the other hand (or head), the fabric hat was an investment that has served me well for more than a decade, even travelling with me overseas, for it is completely uncrushable and can be easily folded up and stashed in a suitcase. People always compliment it when I wear it.

The funny thing is though since I’ve segued back into minimalism (somewhat), I’ve discovered a new-found liking for neutral shades of brown. It used to be my most hated colour. Maybe it’s true what they say – I’m really turning into my mother!?