Is Wearing Black All The Time WRONG? Should We Be Injecting Some Colour Into Our Boredrobes?

On days where I feel disgusted with the way I look, wearing black makes me feel a bit better about myself when I look in the mirror. It’s an escape, because it says ‘take me seriously. Don’t give me too much attention, but don’t ignore me.’
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Publish date:
November 8, 2012
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Tags:
clothes, fashion, black, colour

I know it’s getting colder but after the showcasing of SS13 collections at LFW and all the sportswear and day-glo stuff, black and neutral colours seem dull. I always wear black and I’m always going through phases of ‘I really need to break out of this black habit’, to ‘Wearing black is really chic and I don’t care if my wardrobe looks like a sable abyss.’

If it’s a numb, chilly November morning, it seems like the sun has barely dragged itself over the horizon before my alarm is crashing around my room. I turn it off and whimper, peeking out from under the covers with squinty eyes, and shudder with fear at the thought of the freezing air that WILL assault my bones when I make the painful pilgrimage to the shower.

I return to my bedroom ten minutes later, teeth chattering, eyes wide but still bleary. I peer into my wardrobe, choosing what to wear. What do I pull out, you ask? What colour could it be? Oh but it’s black of course. C’EST NOIR. Classic.

Where I work, wearing head-to-toe black is forbidden. I actually really struggle with this, and have to slyly work around it by wearing a yellow belt or orange socks, thus not really breaking my black habit. Should I just accept that I’m more Wednesday Addams than Honey Boo Boo Child and be done with it?

It’s hard work, being colourful. All those bright things give you much more freedom to fail, and the journey from chic black master to clownish fashion disaster isn’t a long one.

BUT THEN AGAIN, black is one thing, neutral is another. I mean, at least black can make a powerful statement. ‘Sigh. I’ve given up’ is the only statement beige ever made.

At London Fashion Week in September, I loved seeing all the people outside Somerset House clad in copious amounts of colour, but it also made me a little jealous. Because I don’t feel like I have the power to pull off such rainbow explosions. Which is stupid really; the dissonance created by lots of colours put together isn’t always clownish, and even if it is, clownish can still be stylish if you want it to be.

But really, on days where I feel disgusted with the way I look, wearing black makes me feel a bit better about myself when I look in the mirror. I think sometimes it’s an escape, because it says ‘take me seriously. Don’t give me too much attention, but don’t ignore me.’

Let’s end this with a cheesy yet inspirational quote from someone called Sarah. Thanks Sarah.

Do you wear loads of black too? Am I wrong about the statement that black makes? If you’re one of those ‘wacky’ colour people, tell me your secrets.