As luck would have it, inch the absurdly cyclical nature of style, the past times ever goes back screaming, and I am a proper trainers-and-dress kinda girl - the type that bank be besides dressed improving for fear of being put in the "girly" snug all the time. As the blogger behindhand elan belch I'm lucky enough to attend Fashion Week, and the spring/summer 2012 shows in New York and London suggest that sportswear is back. Take your pick from nike rift a subversive level, wide boy. I am enamoured of young Canadian designer Thomas Tait's show in London, for which he had Nike trainers customised to go with his sleek cocoon coats and loose separates.
This inspired me to go to Niketown, where I explained that I needed a pair of neon green trainers to go with a 60s fluoro-pink column dress with lime-green stripes, the reason being the dressier something is the more it needs to be told to calm down by sturdy trainers. It's also about revelling in the fact that not teetering on heels actually makes you a whole lot more comfortable in whatever bit of fancy attire you've got going on.
I have become addicted to my
nike shox r4 acting impromptu genius jumps and scaling brick palisades. I've level embarked on enjoining things like: "Just chillax, man!" Teenaged kicks never fingered indeed benevolent.
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