anatomy of :: the flare.

( A quick disclaimer to you all : this was written in my head as I tried to sleep last night – not helpful for the zzz’s – but when I put finger to keypad it never sounds quite so good. I absolutely smashed it in my mind. )

I remember years ago, back in year 5 at the tender age of 10 or 11, falling absolutely in love with a piece of clothing on the rack, probably for the first legitimate time. One innocent shopping trip to the local centre with a friend may have unhinged my love of fashion, an explosion of “wants” in my mind.

Walking into Urban Angel back in the day felt so cool ( the “teen” section of a baby brand, go figure ) – purple walls, silver metal floors, curtained changerooms. So bloody cool and “grown-up”. They even played the hit tunez. It was about as good as it got for that awkward pre-teen fashion phase which regularly saw us wearing sports jumpers, boardshorts and joggers everywhere – without living close to the beach. Urban Angel was the escape from the norm and a step into a more classy, mature version of our young selves.

This particular adventure left me with a deep longing for a pair of light blue denim flares, complete with a puckered seam down the centre ( to give the illusion my legs were longer? May have been subconsciously aware of my body’s downfalls even back then ) and flares big enough to cover the Converse sneakers on my little feet.  Begging and promising I would wear them all the time ensued when I arrived home and, eventually, they were purchased on that credit card I treasured so much – i.e. not my own. And I definitely kept that promise – wearing them to as many mufti days, parties, and group movie dates as possible ( paired with Paris Hilton’s favourite bag of choice – the one so small it only fit a few cash notes ). I probably wore them until they literally would no longer budge over my hips. That puberty curse.

I’ll always have a soft spot for the flare. Bringing back memories of my initial awakenings to fashion when I dreamt of being the next Collette Dinnigan, and one of my favourite fashion eras.

Haters gonna hate, but I’m glad they’ve arrived back into our stores and magazines. If only I could pull them off with such ease – unfortunately these dang hips don’t work so well with the flared proportions, but on a daring occasion, I may just have to give them another go.

I’m proud to say that I think Australians have set the bar pretty high on the flare game, what with Ellery rejuvenating the look for a more sophisticated woman, taking volume and style to the extreme. Street style images across the world are slewn with her clever take. Alice McCall has also taken a recent stab at the silhouette, moving on from her flirty dresses to offer a slightly suited appeal. It’s the new luxury obsession with Gucci, Rachel Comey and Stella McCartney all following suit.

A look no longer solely reserved for the bohemian beauties out there, prancing about with leather ties around their heads, tie dyed t-shirts and Linda Farrow sunglasses. And thank goodness for that because the skinny jean was getting a bit old. A bit too normal. New seasons, new proportions – new dares?.

ellery flare street style
denim flare 70s
flare jean street style
white flare jean
flared jean gucci

(Images from 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

3 thoughts on “anatomy of :: the flare.

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