Grown

Merely weeks – well, okay, fricking months - into my thirtieth year, I am already beginning to notice subtle changes in myself.

Until recently, my wardrobe contained few shirts beyond those horridly starchy stiff-of-collar ones you wear – or, more accurately, try to avoid wearing – to the office.  Packing for a business trip to Frankfurt* last week, however, I realised that a new breed of shirt comprises part of my daily armour. 

Mostly from Equipment – with a little Hamilton-Paris sprinkled into the mix - this second generation of blouse is tactile, womanly and luxuriant.  Without risk of the matron, I can think of no better piece of clothing to demarcate my transition from girlhood – with, let’s not deny, that unfortunate blip of scruffy Pot-Noodle-eating studenthood inbetween - to womanhood.

My next investment will be this suede Joseph shirt. 

I see it worn with J Brand Gigi’s or – should a lottery win prove forthcoming, please God - leather Balmain biker pants. 

Good plan? 

Or outrageously inappropriate for a woman not (quite) over the hill but climbing her way ever nearer the summit?

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* Here, there, everywhere… yet, seemingly, I’m never on this bloody blog!