When I was at boarding school in the late ’80s I was obsessed with fashion. And not Topshop fashion. I read Vogue as if it were my Bible, and subscribed to British W over its short-lived career. W in the UK was a colour newspaper, not a glossy magazine and, whilst my dorm mates favoured Bros posters, I would Blu-Tack Dolce & Gabbana’s Sicillian women, Joseph ads, and Lacroix mini-crinis all over my dormitory cubicle walls in an attempt to erase the institutional chipboard.
I found this page from W in 1988 in the attic at our family home last spring, Blu-Tack still adhered to the corners. I remember wanting to be this woman with every fibre of my awkward, self-conscious teenage body. It represented everything I wasn’t and everything I wished I could be.
And now, sometimes, I am that woman. But inside I am often still that teenager.
PVC Raincoat £275 by Catherine Walker at The Chelsea Design Company
Suede belt £53 by Osprey at Harvey Nichols
Gloves £29.95 by Dents at Selfridges
Grosgrain shoes by Maud Frizon £160