my house: Baubles and Bangles.

"Ooh, maybe just 4 more crucifixes
and a truck load of plastic pearls..."

I'm not a jangly lady. Not big on bangles, necklaces or rings. Strange really because there is something about jewellery that intrinsically draws me to it. The fancy-dress box mess around mentality that can be liberating and fun, channeling a Madonna circa 1984s Like A Virgin look where all that is needed is a bit of wild abandon and a blindfold. A chaotic clobbering together of all things shiny. Suddenly the eye is magnetically drawn to the trimmings, not the usual fabric covered torso thing that goes on with clothes alone. But why don't I embrace it with a bit more gusto and actually cover an arm from wrist to elbow? Dress it up a bit. I could afford to (stylistically speaking), it is hardly as if it would send my dressed-down look out of balance, no one is going to think I'm off to meet the Queen. In fact, when I look around at many women, there is a whole lot of adornment going on and none of them look OTT. But it is a habit that I can't shake. Less is more. A jewellery anorexia. My Dad' watch is my ownly embellishment and on dress up occasions I go wild by adding a ... necklace. It's a pattern I'd love to break, alas it would ask an extra few minutes from my slimline morning routine and until my kids start to know which way round the gusset of their pants should go of a morning, Dad' ever faithful old ticker will have to do.
I do have a friend however who blows all of that out the water with one wave of her candy covered arm. She stacks those bangles high and wears it well. Mixed with her mod-punk fusion look, kids at her legs, buggy as her baton, she is a walking embodiment of how to make it work. I have a bit of style envy but I know when to let someone else carry the trophy. I'll just walk in the shadow of her jewelled up glory. She'd never know. I'm jangle free.