It’s always a high spot in my year when a young woman accepts a hand-me-down as wearable, even desirable fashion.
Fashion-envy is even more delicious. Last week one of my cool granddaughters asked if she could borrow my new, gaudy, sloppy sweater.
In a flash as she spoke I was honoured! I was flattered! I got ideas above my station. Bow down, all you frumps—I am a New York fashionista! Well, it’s not exactly New York here but hey.
But I also love my sweater from Frutti here in Wellington. Their clothes are eccentric street fashion, all unique, all New Zealand designers (I think), and a crash of strange colours blasts out from Frutti into Cuba Street.
So… should I worry? If she follows through and borrows my sweater, will she ever give it back?
It’s a problem, fashion envy, even when it comes from a grandchild you adore.