As the Rugby World Cup draws nearer, New Zealand’s national sport becomes its own religion. Me, personally, I am not a devotee, hardly a subscriber to the sport that has its grass roots firmly planted in this country’s soil. But with all this national pride in hosting such an event, eventually the non-believers are swayed to visit the church of rugby. Like mass, Eden Park’s stadium is filled with loyal followers, dressed in their supportive best, illuminated in the (night) lights, ready to worship their gods- rugby players. Each player at the pinnacle of physical perfection, admired by many, a stature unattainable by most. As service begins, the crowds sing their praise; they appear upon the grassy field to prove their divinity to their congregation. Ok enough with the analogy, I’m not much of a writer and that took a lot of brain cells to write. Basically went to watch a rugby game, The Warriors against some Australian team and The Warriors lost- no surprise (no offence). I rocked a huge mans shirt, which was the perfect length to give me coverage over the ass and belly area (my version of a shirt dress). The use of safety pins although (to me anyway) are a cool punk detailing, was used to tailor the top. Gathering at the back and at the bust helped defined the waist and bust line to avoid the boxy shape that comes with wearing men’s wear. A Gok moment- altering clothes to suit you but without the effort of actually sewing!
Tights – Farmers
Bling- Salvation Army, Mt Roskill
Glasses – Cotton On
Jandals – Kmart
