New Beginning? New Clothes.

My niece has just secured herself a place at university. She has worked really hard for this and truly deserves her success. After the initial whooping of joy and the communal backslapping and booking of halls accommodation, the next question was, what to wear? Never mind, do I need cups/ obligatory jar of Nescafe for random students who drop by at 4am/ folders for my work/ memory sticks, decent book bag, or a map of the city. No. My niece has more clothes than I have ever had in my entire life but she thinks she needs "university clothes" and I agree with her. She does. Not because she lacks the jeans, t shirts, sweaters, trendy boots etc etc that all go with your first year at Uni, giving way after the first term to a universal university fashion statement known simply as Grunge, which I take to mean, clothes you own that you deliberately do not wash for so long that they stick together and you fish them out of your cupboard on a stick in one big lump. She needs them because this is a new beginning. And new beginnings are an opportunity to redefine yourself, to liberate yourself from your previous look and invent a Whole New You. I recently applied for and was offered a new job. I'm really excited about starting it, which will be sometime in October. I'm doing all the responsible things, like poring over my induction reading, getting to know who is who and working out where the bogs are BEFORE I start work so I don't find myself in the horribly, Britishly embarrassing position of Having To Ask For Directions. I'm also spending some time in the evenings mulling over My New Look. The place I am moving to is a bit more trad, a bit more Establishment, the building is echoey with mosaic floors in some places, and there is a sense of musty awe about some parts of it. I have more than a passing feeling that my glittery neon blue t shirt dress is going to struggle to mesh with its new corporate environment. Should I invest in a dogtooth check suit with a pussy bow blouse, I wonder. Every fibre of my being revolts against the idea. Surely I can go Establishment without ageing my look by at least 20 years? OK then how abouts suits and separates with interesting twists? Grey dresses with bright tights and clashy jewellery? Suits with fab retro white lace ups? Now you're talking. I take a dispassionate look at my wardrobe. I fish out my mustard, fuschia, neon blue and burnt orange tights and lay them out on the bed, imagining suits and dresses that they would jazz up. I pull out my stretchy kitten heel boots and picture myself sitting in committees doing a Theresa May impression (yuk yuk. Lose the kitten heel boots). Over these coming days the look will continue to evolve as my niece and I peruse the Autumn fashions and select the pieces which will define the New Her and the New Me. In the end what we buy will more or less hit the mark of our new environments. Much more importantly, whether they do or don't, they will form the backdrop of our new beginnings. That is why hunting them down is so important. And so exciting. Bring on the changing rooms.