Apparently donning a trouser is the only way to stay fashionable during autumn/winter 2012. Please, now is not the time to congratulate me on my smooth use of the fashion singular. I’m far too upset to receive compliments. Sit quietly by the fire as I wipe my tears with my petticoat, and allow me to lament over the death of the dress.

When I was a bright eyed whippersnapper, I decided to rebel against the exhaustingly dull uniform of jeans. I promised myself that I would only wear dresses from then on, with the occasional skirt to add mischief. I stayed true to my word and my wardrobe blossomed into a field of fabulous frocks.

“But wasn’t that impractical?” I hear you ask. Er, do I look like an Olympian to you? My lifestyle decisions, which are based upon the motto “eat much, move little” worked very well with my outfits. I no longer had to endure the embarrassment of popping open my fly button every time I sat down for a meal. Instead I would wear a maternity-style dress and tenderly stroke my food baby.

“But weren’t you always flashing your knickers?” So, you’re persisting with your nosy questions. Well, this is only a problem if you choose to wear itty-bitty ones which do not properly conceal the Lady Gaga (my personal nickname for it). When making the transition from trousers to dresses I invested in big cozy knickers, which I proceeded to happily flash to anyone brave enough to behold the sight.

“But didn’t you always have to shave your legs?” Good Lord, there is no stopping you when it comes to raining on my well-dressed parade! I live in London where the sun doesn’t shine. Leg hair provides warmth through the process of insulation, so why on Earth would I get rid of it?

The nub and gist of all this is that my dresses were my friends. They made me smile when I was down and never showed me up in public. But now the world and its aunt wears dresses like they’re nothing special, they’ve been reduced to the status of the common jean. The trouser is having its moment in the limelight and I don’t know how to cope.

Image courtesy of Kevin Sinclair

I should have guessed this was coming. I reckon it all began with the sports-trend, which catapulted the shifty friendship between fashion and practicality. I tried to dodge the whole sports thing by wearing a white mini-dress whilst carrying around a tennis racket, but it simply wasn’t enough. Now I have nowhere to run (although I do have something more suitable to run in). I must reluctantly accept the trouser as my Lord.

Luckily I’ve got a bright, witty mind which knows how to solve a problem like a trouser. There are several ways in which I can incorporate such a garment into my wardrobe without losing sight of my inner dressy self.

Firstly, I will still continue to shun the horror that is denim. Just because it makes my bum look good doesn’t mean I’m going to compromise my morals. Jeans have dominated the trouser domain for far too long, despite never appearing on catwalks. I intend to wear trousers made from silk, velvet, or even a delightful tweed.

Photo Courtesy of newsfashiontrend.com

Secondly, I will throw my heart and soul into this ‘showing a little ankle’ thing. As far as I can see, this is the only rule for the trouser this season, and a fine rule it is. It means that your shoes become the central focus of your outfit, and I do enjoy showing off my blister-worthy collection. Instead of trying to shave my ankles I‘m going to buy some charming patterned socks. Goose pimply ankles will never be attractive.

Finally, I will retain my feminine style. The whole edgy androgynous look is fabulous, but I cannot even begin to pull it off. I blame my lack of cheekbones. Put me in a pair of dungarees and I resemble a twelve year old boy in a ridiculous wig. Thankfully, there are many trousers out there with all the grace and poise of the prettiest dresses.  

I’m still not won over, but I’m getting used to this trouser fandango. Sitting with your legs spread wide open is really comfy, after all.

Written by Phoebe Eccles

Header image courtesy of LA Times