My Colourful Week 2: What I Wore to Vogue

Week 2 at Vogue

The sky may be grey, but I most definitely am not. My second week at Vogue was just as colourful as my first, even if the weather has been inescapably gloomy.

Everyone has days when they want to wrap up in tracksuit bottoms and a hooded jumper. When I have days like that I put on purple tights. You would be surprised how difficult it is to feel down when you are wearing bright pink, orange and magenta. A frown would clash so you have no choice but to smile. 

Next week is my last week at Vogue House. The time hasn't just flown, it has jumbo-jetted. My colourful outfits have gathered compliments as well as dust from packing suitcases on my hands and knees for photo shoots. Interning is tiring. Really tiring. But my wardrobe hasn't just made me smile, it has also given me energy.

After two weeks dressed like a paintbox, I wonder whether the few black and grey items in my wardrobe will have many more outings.

Monday

 With my blue tights and blue dress I felt slightly like an extra in the Smurf movie. But I was a very smiley Smurf.

Tuesday

Wednesday

Wednesday was a pink polka dot day. My favourite kind of day.


Thursday

Every morning this week I have been checking the weather forecast on my phone. On Thursday morning I leapt out of bed with excitement. Instead of the little umbrella that had been displayed all week, there was a little sunshine peaking from behind a cloud. Even half a sunshine was excuse enough for me to get out my favourite summer dress (which you may recognise from my pin-up post from last week...). Perhaps it did still technically rain in the afternoon, but I was wearing my favourite dress so I didn't particularly mind.

Friday

On Friday I decided to dress like a strawberry. I personally do not think you have lived until you have dressed like your favourite fruit.

Josh the self confessed 'prop boy' helped with this week's colouful photos

One of the challenges of blogging is that I am yet to master the art of taking photographs of myself. Which means I have to enlist the aid of an obliging helper. Over these two weeks that helper has been my housemate Camille who has humoured me by taking snaps in our street in Brixton at the weekend. I put on the outfit I wore on Monday, she takes a photo in the street, I run inside to change into Tuesday's get-up, and so on, until my room looks as though it has just rained clothes and my next-door neighbours are peering out of their windows at the crazy colourful girl dashing in and out of number 26.

I think I am gaining something of a reputation on my street.

Today we had more to worry about though than amused neigbours. Rain.

But a little bit of precipitation was not going to get in the way. So there we were this morning, my two housemates and I: Camille with her camera, Josh holding an umbrella to protect Camille and her camera, and me dancing in the rain.

Because as they say, "You can't wait for the storm to be over. You have to learn how to dance in the rain."


One more week at Vogue. And whether it rains or not, whether I am tired or not, I plan to dance (metaphorically of course).


Libby