Hypothesis: Harajuku is Over The Top.

I was flicking through the March '08 issue of Teen Vogue (Yes, I do have the April issue), one of my favourite fashion magazines in the world, and one which I always swear by in terms of style, creativity, fashionability and innovation. All in all, a great magazine for teenage girls around the world who seek some artistic inspiration in terms of fashion, as well as a means to broaden their own creativity and awareness about the fashion industry and fashion cultures.

Anyway. I was happily turning the pages while sipping on a nice cup of jasmine green tea when I experienced something that must have been similar to a heart-attack, choking and dropping my cup of gorgeous-scented tea to the ground (thank god it was a carpet, Mum would've killed me if I'd broken one of her Dutch china cups!) (hang on, it was MY carpet! I'll find time to clean it up later).

I began to stare in horror at page 126, titled "Street Chic Tokyo: Harajuku Girls", which sat open before me.







































*cough cough* I'd always known that the Harajuku style was slightly "out of the ordinary" and that layering and combining interesting colours and items of clothing was en vogue in Japan. I'd already seen previews and samples of the eclectic fashion culture that went on in the country of the rising sun, notably through Gwen Stefani's video of "What You Waiting For?".

Gosh, on my trips to Asia, I'd even force my parents to go the malls, being absolutely in love with some of the clothes I saw, and with how amazing people looked.

But never, NEVER, in my worst nightmares had I pictured those clashing, OTT outfits which Teen Vogue was so kind as to feature in its pages, which I had once revered and adored (well I still do; I just try to forget that this incident ever happened within the pages of my favourite magazine ever). But to think that the all-knowing Teen Vogue could say that these atrocities were "Street Chic"? Tut, tut, tut.

1) Overload of pinks and clashing colours.

2) Gosh, these accessories must weigh at least 10kg on these girls. Who would ever walk out of their home wearing 5 million headbands, barettes and crunchies in their hair ???

3) Oversized dresses and 'shirts' that look like granny pyjamas.

4) Heart-shaped and panda bags (that look like dead, stuffed Pokémon) and hats that make their owners look like three year-olds.

I could go on listing all the fashion crimes I have seen (and which will forever be plastered in my traumatised mind) on that small, glossy page.

I guess that these Japanese girls, in that sense, are really artistic, trying to go beyond the limits of the art of fashion by being daring and bold, however hideous and horrid the clothes may be. I respect that. But these outfits... Brrrrr... Who could have known that the main characters of Pokémon would one day spring into life ?

Conclusion: Harajuku, the way I have seen it on page 126 of Teen Vogue's March 2008 issue, is WAY hideous and OTT, and should never be seen on the face of the earth.

Hypothesis: Coloured tights are fun.

My new craze of the moment, along with knee-high socks, are coloured tights. Up until about a month ago, whenever I wore a skirt and it was so cold outside I could see icicles dropping off people's noses, I'd wear plain, boring, transparent, black tights. Either the silky ones so my skirt wouldn't ride up or just the 'mousse' ones because they tended to tear less.

I was a black-tight clone, and life was drab. Until, one beautiful Saturday afternoon a month ago, I decided, "Right, from this day onward, I shall revolutionise my life." I stepped into Camaïeu and got stunning red opaque tights which would forever spice up my outfits on skirt-days.

(Well those on the picture are actually from American Apparel but they look pretty much the same)

But I would not stop here. I decided to walk into H&M and that's when I spotted more. Superman-blue shiny tights, as well as minty-green ones. I NEEDED them. I needed colour back in my life as I was having severe withdrawal symptoms from visual stimulus.

I wear the blue or green tights (they are very very bright indeed, and my friends claim they can see me from the other end of the city) with dark-wash thigh-high denim skirts for a casual look, or with black thigh-high dresses and black flats for more sophistication. (I contemplated wearing the tights with silver ballet-flats but was worried I would look like a Wonderwoman clone.)

As for the red tights, I assemble them with a short dark blue pleated skirt, black and white stripy sailor top and pig-tails. American Eagle meets Sailor Moon, I guess. But not too many colours, wouldn't want to look like a circus clown.

The outfit really depends on the shade and how lightly-coloured the tights are.

If you're thinking of wearing wacky, bright shades like fuschia, sky-blue or lime-green, go low-key and darker on the colour of your outfit. I'd say black is a safe bet for a dress, but as I've said, dark-wash denim is great too. Grey or white would make other people blind.

If you're thinking of wearing darker coloured tights, though, like dark burgundy or dark forest-green, you can go a bit more sunshiny on the general outfit or dress you're wearing. If I'm wearing really darkly-coloured tights, I like to wear a dress that's got a lighter shade of that colour. Like the lightly-coloured tights, however, they'll brighten up any outfit, so you can even wear these dark shades with more sombre clothes.

While accessorising your outfit, in some cases, wackiness may call for more wackiness. But don't go overboard with accessories: remember that coloured-tights are an accessory themselves. A rule I keep in mind is, a maximum of two accessories when I wear funky-coloured tights. When I wear my superman-blue tights with a denim skirt and a black top, for instance, I go for big, silver dangle earrings and perhaps a bright blue scarf. But that's it. You wouldn't want people going off to the ophtamologist every two seconds on your account.

Conclusion: Coloured tights can be fun with careful accessorising and good colour-coordination.