Licentiate Column 01/08/13: A Real Risk-Taker


– Now THAT’S some fine fashion risk-taking

News time everyone – I’m moving to London. I’m not quite sure when I’m moving but there’s a date I have to be there by and also a date by which I have to accumulate an enormous amount of money for university fees. I’m a-goin’ back to college.

I’m excited and happy and proud of myself for getting into this particular course. I am also apprehensive, nervous, sad, slightly queasy, numbed, stunned, confused, unwilling to move and about this close to making a mess of myself with the sheer volume of abject fear that is heaped upon me on a daily basis. I am bloody terrified.

Change terrifies me. But mostly, it’s the idea of taking a risk. Risks carry the ever-present possibility of you falling on your face or being exposed as foolish or wrong. That’s another thing I’m terrified of by the way – being wrong. Also, all my teeth falling out at once, like a deleted scene in a Cronenberg film.

Ironically, the knowledge that I’m moving away has made me take more risks than I have ever thought of taking – most of them very foolish indeed and not really worth talking about (suffice to say it’s never a good idea to proposition someone without all synapses firing at 5am on a Sunday morning). It’s very odd. I judder about in between feeling incredibly empowered and paralysed with uncertainty. People normally oscillate between caring and not caring, but this is happening on a much more frequent and concentrated basis than normal. At this point I have enough material to write a Channel 4 comedy-drama six-parter (one series, not recommissioned due to lack of interest). It’s driving me mad – but that’s life, isn’t it?

And, just like life, I find everything is reflected in my appearance. As I type (but hopefully not as you read, because there’s a week in between writing and publication) I am wearing purple lipstick. It’s not much of a risk, I know, but at least I’m telling you about it. It doesn’t really go with the tan and I keep getting thick, crayon-y blooms of blackberry colour on my drinking glass, but at least that’s one risk taken and worked through today.

Yesterday, I wore my friend’s Batman t-shirt. It was a big step for me. No really, it was. I also bought a pair of boots on a whim last week. I mean, I had a voucher, but it was still an impulse purchase – of a pair of sturdy black boots.

Sigh. I just can’t seem to get this ‘taking risks’ thing right. Between this paragraph and the last one, I took off the purple lipstick. It didn’t feel right.

One would presume, mistakenly, that as a fashion writer I’m an adventurous dresser, but really I just make a lot of educated guesses. The risk is fairly minimal. Unfortunately, the payoff is too.

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