I got to thinking last night about where my love of style came from. There were certain stories about my mum that always made me smile, in particular the one where she once (in college) painted her shoes with emulsion paint to match her outfit. The fact that she always picked me up on winter days from the school gates in a wolf (WOLF, I kid you not) jacket. It ended up in the tip one day (yes, the TIP. Again, I kid you not) during a phase when people were getting spat upon (and more) for wearing fur coats. The photos of her in skirts up to her bottom and boots up to her knees (that was the ’60s, she wasn’t tarty per se). The trips to NoahNoah on Wellfield Road and some fabulous outfits for work (she was an English teacher) – sky high stilettoed boots in the winter (which to her credit she wore all day every day without once falling over) and houndstooth monochrome suits with calf length kick flare skirts. A (okay, this one was a bit dodgy) ‘rhinestone cowboy’ jewel adorned jumpsuit. Oh yes, and a fabulous khaki-with-jungle-print skirt and jacket (sounds awful, but it was really original at the time) which she bought from Warehouse.  (“Why didn’t you go to a shop?” said my dad…) Something my mum once said to me that I thought was very sweet (and am sure also true) is: children like colour, they like interesting things – they don’t want to see you dowdy. She always wore (and still wears) something quirky or stylish or colourful or interesting, and I’m positive that I’m not the only person she has inspired with her innate sense of style.

But my Dad definitely has something to answer for too. He wore a kermit (ok, this might be a slight exaggeration) green suit the first time he met the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh, in his capacity as Chief Engineer for a road flyover project in Cardiff. He was one of four, and Prince Philip allegedly said to him “Ahh, you must be the contractor’s agent” (I didn’t know this, but contractors’ agents tend to wear wacky clothes. Maybe I should have been one of those?) Anyway, the second time my dad met them, in a longer line up that time, the eagle eyed Prince recognised him and said “I see you’ve got a new suit!” Brilliant. He also started wearing Kickers the same time as I did (remember them?) and hasn’t done up his shoelaces ever since, which is, I think, a fashion statement in itself. And he’s always, always had cool hair. He doesn’t wear jeans, or cowboy boots, but he definitely has something of an old cowboy about him.

My sister’s definitely had her moments (hey, she was a teenager in the 80s too) and is unfailingly supportive of my styling adventures (as she was of all of my previous crazy fads) but is generally more conservative in dress than me (not a bad thing, for her sake) and my brother (whatever he says, he had some special moments too, you only have to look at the picture) was frankly horrified when he heard about my plan to become a stylist. He thinks my dress sense is the worst in the world, which makes me laugh a lot (clearly he’s wrong).

Yes, our parents are where it all came from. They didn’t bat an eyelid when I dressed entirely in monochrome to match my beloved Welsh sheepdog. Or when I painted my entire room lime green and purple, and insisted on wearing only clothes in that colour (to my discredit I was about 15 at the time, not 9). They always accepted me as I was, and never tried to quash my individuality. Except for the time my mum made me wear a royal blue velour tracksuit to junior school in the winter because it was cosy. Urgh! Cosy and UGLY! I much preferred my grey marl mini skirt with neon graffiti on it. Even in the winter.

xx Nomad Thief xx

You would think that, being into style, by this point in my life I’d have tried and tested everything. In reality I’m lazy about shopping (unless it’s for other people) and these days often find myself into a style rut and just going for comfort/casual dressing (typically, jeans or shorts with a t-shirt or jumper and boots) and looking like a (n albeit stylish) tramp. A bit like this recent post from undisputed street style photographer king The Sartorialist:

Now I think she looks great and I love the style, but for me, it’s time for something new… So, in writing this, am committing myself to devising some new looks, and to showing you the results – lame or otherwise. Namely, the following: lipstick (am a bit worried about this one, my past attempts have been not only disappointing but frankly a little bit frightening) / clothes from the mens department, but this time feminised / earrings (necessitating re-piercing my ears) / grown up shoes (not that I wear Crocs or anything, just that I seem to wear boots winter and summer) / statement collars, necklaces, buttoned up shirts + jumper necklines (good for covering up my scrawny neck) / winter bare legs with boots and calf length skirts (am most excited about this one) / blouses, jeans and high heels / vintage looks, all sorts / more jewellery in general (in particular – bangles, long necklaces and cocktail rings) / tracksuit bottoms and high boots (a la off duty Parisian model. Obviously I’ll look just like one) / dressing up (I have a pathalogical fear of being overdressed and need to get over it as it’s actually nice to make an effort) maybe in actual pretty dresses (I also have a pathalogical fear of looking ‘pretty’) / green (I love it but I don’t wear it enough). I think that’s it.

We all tend to stick to certain ‘formulas’ and we all get bored. Let’s mix it up. Pinpoint something (else) that you like (just look around at other people, or have a flick through some magazines) and just try it. Chances are that although you might have nailed one sort of look, you’ve probably missed a whole load of others that could work on you. Yes, it takes a little bit of thought and effort. But doesn’t everything worth doing?

There seem to be 6 major style tribes gracing the slopes these days:

Pretty Pretties  
Female. An as-fitted-as-possible jumpsuit – or, if separates, the jacket will usually be belted at the waist. A fur edged hood and some sort of nondescript snowflake/snowscene design. Colours: brown, cream, pink (urgh), white, or orange. Headgear: wide headband and big wraparound (expensive / flashy) sunglasses. Or a neat helmet in matching colours and discreet ski googles.

C&A Brigade
Predominantly male but not exclusively. Usually tricolor, often all-in-ones. Usually some horrible combination of green / turquoise / pink / white / purple / yellow. Generally ill-fitting (either borrowed from someone or they’ve had it for 15+ years). Sometimes worn ironically (presumably) with a bright aerobics type headband and / or often some sort of old fashioned moustache. Drink: beer. As cheap as possible. Always.

Snowboarders 
Baggy. Cool. Different. Faux ‘other materials’ (textile which looks like graffiti, bark, brick, denim), neon, garish patterns. Highly reflective and oversized ski visors / goggles, usually with a multicoloured or flashy gold tint. Some sort of ‘crazy’ hat. Or retro bobble. Eat: self made sandwiches, off piste. Also now more ‘tidy’ snowboarders out there. Usually small, neat, a little-bit-wacky couples. They probably work in media.

Functional
Brands: Helly Hanson, North Face, that sort of thing. Colours: black, navy, red, green, royal blue. Nothing garish, nothing daring. Relatively affluent, mostly over 30 and not desperately interested in fashion. People who probably spend a lot of time hiking when they’re not skiing.

Novelty
Onesies (girls and boys) or farmyard animal / cartoon character outfits. Sometimes complete with animal heads / tails / capes. Very likely to be from public school, in the army and / or part of a rugby (or other) club. Drink: beer (boys) or champagne (boys and girls).

Proper Skiiers
Skin tight ski gear in club colours, or all-the-same-colour separates – smart, sleek and good quality but not at all shiny or flashy. Sometimes with ski resort / ski school logo.

In making all these sweeping and disparaging remarks (by the end of the year I’ll probably have managed to alienate or offend most of the people on the planet) I was thinking about my own transgression through the style tribes of the slopes… First, it was pure C&A, at the tender age of 14. Turquoise, white and pink. Zero points for originality, but I loved it and was very proud. Second, early university days, and a new jacket – pale blue, with a large, very cool (I thought) iguana on the back. “Isn’t it a bit big darling?” said my mum. And of course she was right. By about 6 sizes… I was learning to value extremes in dressing. Third, in the long interim and up til this season, a non descript grey/black/white ‘functional’ number. Nice, but a bit, well.. yawn. Fourthly, my current this-season-bought love: a bright blue, snug, down-filled one with lots of pointless but appealing logos and a fur hood. See picture.
I asked my husband after writing this which category I now fall into and he said; “Pretty pretty, of course!”.
I’m distraught.

All this aside… the best thing about skiing / snowboarding? It’s a great leveller and it doesn’t matter what the hell you wear, as long as you have fun and don’t cut people up or drop your gloves off the chair lift.