Liverpool lasses really know how to dress. My Scouser friend Joely calls them dolly birds and this fits pretty well, but I don’t want to mock their sense of style because to be honest, we all had the utmost respect for it. Seasonally they’re way off the mark, but that makes it all the more fun, because us soft Southerners stood out for all the wrong reasons in our coats, hats and scarves. It was -5ยบ on Saturday night, and even with a beer blanket we almost froze our lady bollocks off.
Going out without a coat is quintessentially a Northern thing - they do the same in Newcastle - but a trend that definitely ran in Liverpool was fuck-off platform heels. As graceful as they all looked at the start of the night, after numerous vodka Redbulls, they all started falling like baby giraffes come 3am. It was like some shitty M Night Shyamalan film where everyone is overcome with jelly legs at the same time. Pretty hilarious, actually…
Ok, so the resurgence of the platform heel and wedge has been noted on the runways over the last three or four seasons, and the high street has a pretty established range of 6 or 7 inchers (see my own from Topshop)
, but in the bars us stylecrampers frequent, you tend to see less platform and more flat ankle boot, given Londoners’ laid-back stylings. It was actually great to see so many girls so well-groomed and…leggy! The main uniform in Liverpool tended to reside somewhere between wag and vintage inspiration. BIG hair, BIG heels. Two girls that stood out for us (and not many photos surfaced the next morning unfortunately, due to major drunkenness on our part!) were archetypically well-groomed with heavily styled up-dos and smoky eyes, with major platforms and long, lean legs to complement. I won’t pretend I wasn’t surprised to see them wearing the most amazing 70s inspired vintage outfits, rather than the usual Jane Norman/Karen Millen shitty high street garms. You can see one girl’s olive green ruffled backless jumpsuit in one of the pictures, but her friend’s oversized white bell-sleeved chemise wasn’t documented. She was young enough and pretty enough to pull off a Tony Montana shirt which looked ace with a tiny black mini and huge heels.
I was severely lax on the double denim spotting on this trip, but if I remember correctly, one guy who tried to rub his crotch on me and shouted “are-you-gonna-snog-me-or-whaaaat?!” in my face was wearing matching stonewash, though I can’t be sure and I definitely was NOT in a mood to take his picture…
On an end-note, there are some brilliant vintage shops in Liverpool that we never had time to visit. I’m going back when I don’t have a shitty temp job and no cash…
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Vanity St Cyr x
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