I found this ancient photo of my brother, Mum and I whilst sorting out the spare room. Marcus is 20 months my junior and I loathed him with a passion when he was born, pushing him and his pram through a plate glass door, tipping his Moses basket upside down and cutting all the pom-poms off his baby clothes. As I've got older I've come to love him and I haven't tried to maim him for many a year. I think my mum looks pretty spectacular here, she was a model and amateur actress until motherhood put paid to her ambition for fame and fortune.
Mum and me have differing tastes where it comes to clothes. She constantly tortures me with tales of her shopping expeditions to Biba and Granny Takes A Trip back in the 1960's and how she gave her psychedelic maxis, Quant go-go boots and snakeskin flares away to friends. Her wardrobe is eighties-tastic, batwing jumpers and crushed velvet leggings vye for cupboard space amongst Dynasty-style shoulder-pads and applique leopard print monstrosities.
She bought it in the mid-1970's but hasn't a clue where it came from but I reckon I'll be treating it to a few festivals and my forthcoming trip to India.
What on earth would you call it? A jumpsuit, all-in-one or one of those horrific hybrid names so beloved by the fashion press like jeggings or treggings. Perhaps it could a drouser(dress/trousers) or a jess (jumpsuit/dress)?
I'm wearing it with some TopShop boots (sorry about the lack of nail polish on my toes, a crime against fashion if ever there was one) and a jumble sale necklace.