Tie Dye Dungarees & Other 90s Fashion Mistakes

I’ve been dragging my Louboutin heels somewhat on this post, as in many ways it felt incredibly personal.  I know that might sound strange given some of the topics I’ve already covered, but the 90s were quite a significant part of my life, and somehow the clothes I wore really told the story of that period.  But, I said I would write it, and so now I feel obligated to do so.

Deep breath.  Big girl pants.  Here we go.

It’s safe to say that the arrival of the 90s did not see me dressed in quite the same manner that you do today.  I spoke to Arianne Cornell about this, and she maintains that for the first two years of Med School I wore nothing but tie dye dungarees, baggy jeans and a whole array of cheesecloth dresses.  I deny all knowledge of this, but maybe I’ve just blocked it out. 

Once we hit the clinical years we had to make a bit more effort, and I vividly remember going shopping with Ari for our clothes for placement.  Money was no object for her, so she went to Jessops in Vic Centre and bought a very smart and flattering work ensemble.  I had less cash, and was something of a late developer so got myself what basically amounted to school uniform at Tammy Girl because I didn’t get charged VAT, it fitted better and was much more suited to my budget.  I looked 12 but needs must...

Outside of work, I was still alternative at heart.  Every break from uni, when I was back in London, I went to Camden and stocked up on ethically sourced tie dye (yes, OK, I admit it), band T-Shirts and floral print dresses.  It was on one of those trips that Paul bought me earrings, as my first gift from him.  I still have them.  Photo below. 

In fifth year, my favourite outfit was my vintage knitted poncho and Burberry jeans.  I got them from Afflecks Palace in Manchester when P and I went to visit his sister at university, and then basically lived in them.  The poncho came in particularly useful when I was given Kings Mill in Mansfield for my MDD placement and had to get the bus at 6am every morning.  It may not have been a duvet but it was as good as.  It was this little ensemble that I asked Charlie to dig out of storage in my house in Holby and send over, and when it arrived I was actually surprised by how preppy it looks these days.  So much so that I am giving consideration to actually wearing it much to the amusement of G & S.

Then there were scrubs.  I don’t endorse casual theft, obviously, but I had pairs in every colour of the rainbow by the time I left Nottingham.  If I visited a department on placement, I left with their scrubs. They make the best leisure / sleepwear, and I still own the pair Paul wore on his first day as a Reg. Weirdly, when she was a baby, Grace always settled best when I was wearing them.  Given her recent steps toward becoming nocturnal maybe I should try them now. 

My long time flirtation with alternative fashion came to an end when I got together with my ex husband.  It may not have been formally enforced on me, but when your boyfriend is titled and his folks have ‘a pad in the country’ there are certain standards that have to be adhered to.  Initially I traipsed the charity shops in the area hoping to snatch up a bit of bargain tweed or a little designer number mis-priced by an unknowledgeable geriatric volunteer, but before too long Michael went full on Richard Gere on my Julia Roberts and I had clothes I’d never have dreamed of.  It felt odd at first, but it was such a period of transformation for me that I guess it felt natural, and ultimate I grew to love, lust over and finally expect couture.  Just as I do now. 

So, in summary (the famous TLDR), was alternative, met a man, changed.

Dear god.  I am actually Sandy from Grease.  

Time to get back to the cookie making......