Style File: Skater Skirt (similar in plain navy) / Marcs Knit (similar) / Ruby Jacket (similar) / Reeboks Classic Sneakers / Necklace from Swonderful (similar here and here) / Ring by Chloe Taylor/ Elk earrings.
Down a supermarket aisle with a roll of tinfoil in-hand, I bat at a box of cereal whilst jumping up and down like a 4-year-old on a moon-hopper. I am ready to catch the box, should it hopefully fall, but the closer I get the further it moves out of my reach.
At a gig, elbows fling wildly in my face and I’m squashed into sweaty backs and the hairy armpits of students who are dancing like it’s the last dance they’ll ever have.
In London I am trapped on a flight of stairs with a borrowed suitcase that is bigger than me. I need to get to Heathrow. I am about to miss my flight until a tall, kind stranger sweeps past without warning, and carries my suitcase to the top of the stairwell, then disappears before I even have a chance to say, thank you.
This is my life. At 4 ft’ 11 (and a half) inches, I am a woman trapped in a child’s body.
But there was a time when I had known the privilege of height — placed in the back row for school photos I was assured by others I was destined for loftiness. With my long legs and gangly arms I towered above my friends. I played netball in the ‘A’ team in my favourite position— ‘defense’ (for four years running) and dreamt of playing for my country. I can tell you for a fact that my legs are still long for my body, but before you start laughing, I’m not inferring for a second that I am tall.
But, like aging height is but a mind-set, and I shall forever be tall-er (with the help of a block heel) regardless of whether I was destined for short and sweet.
A week into August (hooray!) and it feels like spring is just around the corner. I love waking up to blue skies and wind-free days. My eye-print skater skirt has helped to lift my mood this entire winter, and I’ve just fallen in love all over again with this tuxedo wool jacket with it’s peacock-shaped peplum—perfect for keeping the chill at bay on those days where I don’t have to rug up from head to toe.
Photography©Howard Sly, edited by me.