Am I getting old? This is the burning question I have been asking myself recently prompted by a number of incidents. Firstly, I’m noticing a new and quite conservative attitude within myself towards fashion trends. I find myself far more intolerant of certain alleged “in things” in the weird and wonderful world of fashion.

Example one: the thigh high suspender stocking. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I always thought this little fashion tippet belonged in satin clad boudoirs and steamy lingerie shops. I thought the only time respectable women wore these was on a boyfriend, husband or partner’s birthday, a Valentine’s night or after receiving an extremely yummy surprise candle lit meal cooked by your significant other.

So you can imagine my shock and confusion when the thigh high suspender started popping up on the legs of Irish ladies in night haunts around the country, worn not with lingerie, but with bum skimming skirts. I don’t get the appeal of this whole underwear as outerwear thing. I don’t think there is a classy, understated way to wear this. I don’t understand why a light black tight isn’t sufficiently sexy. I really feel anything is better than the Jenny Don’t be Hasty style suspender stocking.

Have you noticed that everything is becoming far too sexualised? (Another reason why I think I’m getting old). It’s not just fashion, which I’ll admit has always run on the premise that sex sells, but everyday life from the things we read to television and music is getting more X Rated. I just think the world has become a very sexy place. Sex permeates its way into our lives in the most inappropriate ways and we’re all becoming completely indifferent to it.    

Only last weekend I was in a very popular children’s toy store shopping for birthday presents for my boyfriend’s nieces. To me toy shops should be a safe haven for childish innocence. And call me crazy, but I would expect the sound track crooning out of the shop’s speakers to include things like Disney songs, tunes from Barney or nostalgic nursery rhymes.

So you can imagine my shock and horror when Rihanna S&M pumped out at me as hyped up four year olds ran around my knees asking their parents for dolls clad in the type of clothes which shock me on a Saturday night on the tiles. I looked around and felt very uneasy. Trying to choose whether the Barbie dressed like a high class hooker would be better for the niece turning four or seven as Ri Ri revealed how sticks and stones may break her bones but chains and whips excite her was too weird an experience for me.

In the end I decided Barbie dolls were out. I searched for an hour for a doll with some kind of positive message for a young girl to emulate. Doctor doll perhaps, or high powered lawyer Barbies complete with her own rent controlled apartments and three piece power suits- there was none. Only nurse and teacher- which I would have bought in a heartbeat, except their outfits were thigh high like the stockings and I think we all know my feelings about that now.

The more I think about it I don’t think the problem is that I’m old at heart. I think I’m just starting to cop on. I don’t really feel the need to pander to the conventional ideals of sexy anymore. I think too many women feel pressure to get the legs or boobs out in order to get noticed.

Looking around any nightclub in the country this seems to be the perception.  The majority of women strut around with their skin out because they like to feel sexy. And I’m not knocking this because if you’ve got it, why not flaunt it. But, for every confident, strutting woman, there are at least three who are unsure. Instead of owning the room with their blatant display of female sexuality, the unsure women toddle through the club pulling their thigh highs up and their minisdown.  And that’s what’s wrong with the picture of sexiness. So many people recreate the images of what the world calls sexy, whether they are comfortable with it or not.

I say if you think you’ve got it and you want to flaunt it good luck to ya. But if you’re showing the skin to avoid falling under the radar maybe it’s time to reconsider. I think sexiness is a state of mind stemming from confidence. As always your comments, criticisms and tweets are welcomed on this hot topic… as long as you agree.

To me, sexiness has more to do with the way you hold yourself than the length of your skirt. But I have a sneaky suspicion the masses disagree. The suspender trend does prompt me to take a kind of what’s next view of the world. Will bras and camis be replacing shirts and blouses in a few years? Will there ever be a Barbie that doesn’t resemble the latest raunchy pop starlet? Will children’s stores continue to play sexually provocative music to their teeny bopper shoppers?

I’ll keep you posted.

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So last Friday began like any normal Friday for me. I was rudely awoken from a sublime dream filled sleep by my obnoxious alarm clock. As I painfully peeled my exhausted bed head off the pillow I noticed something most unusual creeping through my curtains- a ray of light. This thing was beaming down at me as if I was the Virgin Mary herself. I snapped back the curtains and all I could do was stare on in amazement as The Beatles Here Comes the Sun played loudly in my head. The sun was shining! The sky was that perfect clear blue with big sheep shaped fluffy clouds, (my A2 in Leaving Certificate Higher level Geography told me this was a great sign).

I literally jumped out of bed full of shiny, happy summer beans. Because when the sun decides to pay Ireland a visit everything just seems brighter and we all get a little excited. Irish people everywhere drop what they’re doing and get summery STAT! Within a half an hour of sunshine’s arrival the local beaches are packed, the corner shop sells out of 99s and the air constantly smells like BBQ.  But sun shine, fabulous as it may be, prompts pertinent questions to be raised. The most pressing of which usually is, what am I going to wear.

Sunny weather always makes me want to go shopping. I quickly veto everything in my wardrobe, dismissing it as drab and boring.  Summer clothing is all about colours, comfortable fabrics and flowing, airy designs.  I saw so many people get it just right last weekend. With cotton maxi dresses teamed with tan accessories and gladiator sandals, floral cotton dresses with coloured plimsolls and pretty playsuits with wedge heeled sandals all I could do was look on with serious style envy. I also saw some ladies working the colour block trend to perfection mixing bold oranges, greens and purples. (If only Cheryl Cole had stopped off in Galway on her way to her first US X Factor appearance).

But I also saw a few shockers that literally left me dumb founded. For instance I saw one young man rocking the shambles that is black sandals and white socks. I didn’t even know people were allowed to do this anymore. I assumed if you tried to pair these two eye sore creating combinations God struck you down dead on the spot. It’s awful, right up there on the scale of all that is hideous. So please, if you think a male loved one is capable of committing this crime against fashion please just tell him no, then tell him no and then, tell him no again.  It’s just wrong.

Another not as abominable but still not great look I saw some people sporting is what I like to call the rebellious maxi dress. You see maxi dresses seem to embody all that the summer vibe is- laid back, casual, comfortable. So I think a lot of women put one on and feel positively stunning by day, but a tad under dressed at night. And so they over compensate with stiletto heels, embellished clutches and glitzy jewellery, rebelling against all that the maxi stands for. Unless you’re heading to a wedding, graduation ball or other formal do, the way to rock a maxi is to go for all out summer cool. Keep it simple with your accessories and do not add overly dressy high heels- it makes you look like you’re on your way to your Debs. Instead add some dressy flat sandals or wedge heels if you like some extra height.

I think the best way to go with summer style is to keep it light and bright, cool and comfy. I’m loving so many trends at the moment, like the 70’s throwback with oversized sun glasses and shoulder bags to humungous straw hats. (I just don’t think I could pull them off).  As always I welcome your opinions and comments… as long as their complimentary… just joking, but not really. And don’t be afraid to tweet if the mood takes you.

So what can we conclude from my reasonless ramblings? I think it’s fair to say that summer fashion is in full swing and us Irish are wearing it to the max. Although, I do keep wondering where is the fashion heathen in the black sandals and white socks. Will he ever realise the error of his ways?

I’ll keep you posted.

Style mistress.

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Kicking off my style blog is my slightly controversial take on the fake tan trend. I know many will judge and ridicule me for this but I can’t abide fake tan. It’s smelly, sticky, and getting way too old for the world. I’m so over it and here are my reasons for thinking so. Let me know what you think by posting your comments below. You may think I’m wrong… But I know I’m right!!!!

A few weeks ago, after a Friday night on the town, my friend woke up with an unusual problem. She was convinced she smelled like potatoes, a strange thing to smell like at the best of times I was intrigued, to say the least. As she frantically sniffed at her arms like a security dog that got a whiff of something unsavoury in a back packer’s rucksack, my attention turned to her suspiciously sallow skin. We’ve been friends for years and I distinctly remember the pal of my girlhood was a fellow pasty like me. Fair haired, blue eyed, pale skinned, she’s now adopted a kind of mahogany brown skin tone all year round. As she continued to carry out a sniffer investigation on her arms, she seemed to epitomise all that was wrong with the tanning craze of the noughties.
I can’t remember exactly when it happened, (I think it was around the time that Victoria Beckham went solo and everyone started buying GHDs), but somewhere in my early teens the fake tan frenzy began. Fake tanning is like the Madonna of beauty trends- it’s been around forever, but it’s starting to get a bit tiresome. Being extremely fair skinned, (my natural tone is a kind of fluorescent white) I embraced the tanning trend for many, many years.

I did it all. From spray tans to lotions and gels. I applied it using everything from wipes and mitts to surgical gloves I made my mam steal from the hospital she works in. (There’s not a lot a gal won’t do to be bronzed on Leaving Cert night). People always seem to favour the bronzed up look. So, as a means to fit in and avoid a slagging, I joined the fake tan brigade, because there wasn’t a hope of me getting one the old fashioned way.
My skin doesn’t do too well on holidays. As my Granny used to say “I love the sun but it doesn’t love me”, and I’m sure many of you understand my predicament. I’m the person on holidays in the giant sun hat, under the giant parasol, chugging back litre bottles of water and charging to the sea for a cool down dip every ten minutes. I carry factor I can’t believe it goes up this high everywhere I go. My perpetual paleness used to bother me so much I put myself through hell trying to look like I had a tan and I know I’m not alone. But I’m beginning to wonder would it be that awful if we just stopped faking it???

I’m at a stage in my life where I’m comfortable in my own skin, so, after almost a decade of tedious tanning techniques I have come to somewhat of a life changing decision. I’m cutting myself off cold turkey. No more fake tan. I’ve shaved at least an hour off my getting ready time on a night out. My skin already feels nicer, especially the morning after the night before. I’ve none of that residual stickiness, my clothes don’t have tan lines and I have yet to smell like potatoes.

So to all my fair skinned factor fifties out there I’ve felt your freckled pain. It’s time to embrace your skin in its natural state. I say Put down the tan bottle, unlock the bathroom door and get out there and live. I believe that pale is pretty and natural trumps all. What do you think?Right now I’m feeling my natural look. I don’t really care if no one else is. So, for the foreseeable future tan can get the boat!!! Will I be able to resist the tan temptation as the summer months progress?? Am I setting myself up for pale puns and torrents of abuse??? Does my friend still smell like potatoes?????
I’ll keep you posted.

Style Mistress

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To celebrate the opening shoppers will be treated to drinks and delicious cupcakes all day. Customers will also have the chance to claim 20% of their purchase. Perfect for those of you in search of an excuse to treat yourself to a new Valentine’s Day outfit

Check out the brand new concession from 9am at the O’Connell Street store and expect to see an explosive mix of flirty florals, colour blocking and riotous animal prints from our amazing new spring summer collection

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• Warehouse has some of the best choice of coats on the High Street this season
• Create an hourglass silhouette with a waist-cinching shape
• Inject a dash of colour

See this month’s issue for a full round-up on fashion by Delilah

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