Recently, I was at my childhood home in Canberra looking through some old photos that Mum was sorting into a “for Kellie” box. Inside were the usual family shots: baby photos, first day of school, with cousins at Batemans Bay, images of me during my tween and teen years.
The shots of me at 16 speak volumes about where I was in my fashion evolution. Clearly I was not dressing for myself but for my peers. In one photo I’m wearing a polo sweater with layered polo shirts underneath, skin-tight acid wash jeans and an embarrassingly bad fringe. I call the look “booner chick”, and it was a popular trend in the ACT during the late 1980s. I also owned a pair of white tassel boots I bought in Bali on my first overseas holiday with my family. But it wasn’t my style at all, and looking at these photos I still feel uncomfortable for my younger self.
‘When you have a fantastic outfit on, you feel just as fantastic. It’s one of the many reasons I love investing in beautiful pieces.’Credit:George Antoni
It was not long after this time that I learnt my first fashion lesson: dress for yourself. When I started year 11, I changed friends and discovered op-shopping, Esprit, Country Road, my dad’s wardrobe and, most importantly, my own style. I stopped dressing like the crowd. I teamed vintage suit jackets with feminine blouses and wore classic men’s work shorts belted tight at the waist. I sometimes wore a shirt and tie with a skirt to school, even though there was no compulsory uniform.
My white tassel boots were replaced with Doc Martens lace-ups, which I wore with overalls or long floral liberty print dresses and lace ankle socks. I grew out my mullet and styled my fringe into a rockabilly quiff, and sported a collection of felt hats.
I dressed nothing like the girls I went to school with and it was liberating.
To this day I dress for myself. I love fashion and I love watching new trends come and go. Some I try on for size, others I let go. Double denim? Never. Chunky designer trainers? Not for me. A double-breasted (real or copy) Balmain jacket? Not my thing, either; those pointy shoulder pads only look good on supermodels.
The author shows off her style at age 19.Credit:@kelliehush/instagram
I’ve never been a woman who dresses for the opposite sex. Yes, I love a bodycon dress and my talented friend Alex Perry has squeezed me into many of his amazing designs over the years, but equally I love dresses with volume (hello Ellery), midi-length full skirts and baggy tailored pants. I’m a big fan of Leandra Medine, the New Yorker who created manrepeller.com, and couldn’t agree more with her comment: “If a guy is only really into your outfit and won’t date you because of what you’re wearing, they are too driven by the female exterior and don’t care about your intellect.” A former male colleague once said the way I dressed was “a bit weird”. I took it as a compliment.
But I’m the first to admit I don’t always get it right, even after 25 years in the industry. I’ve worn a new Miu Miu dress back-to-front to the opening of Australian Fashion Week. The dress had an uneven hemline, so the way I had it on meant it was extra-short at the back and extra-long at the front. I should have noticed but I’ll blame it on having two young kids and running out the door.
Early in my career I arrived at the races at Sydney’s Rosehill without a hat. Not the biggest crime, but I was a Fashions on the Field judge! Thankfully, there was a spare in the members’ lounge I could borrow.
Which brings me to another important lesson: if there’s a dress code, make sure you follow it. I attended my first Derby Day in a pretty, multicoloured Collette Dinnigan dress. I turned to my husband when we arrived in the Myer marquee: “Funny, everyone’s wearing black and white. Is it because it’s a Myer thing?” Um, no.
In a Burberry trench coat and Dion Lee jumper and skirt at Australian Fashion Week, 2018.Credit:@kelliehush/instagram
I also follow the adage that it’s better to be overdressed than underdressed. If you’re in doubt, ask the function host. Unfortunately, the underdressed factor usually applied to my husband, Dave. I once took him to a black-tie dinner and told him not to bother about the bow tie as most blokes would come straight from work. He was the only guy in the room with an open collar … and a furious look on his face.
At the other end of the fashion spectrum is comfort dressing. I am with the late, great Karl Lagerfeld here: “Sweatpants are a sign of defeat.” Invest in a lounging-around outfit. It’s worth it. We all have old favourites but you’ll feel a million bucks better if you’re laying on the couch looking chic in your new fab athleisure rather than that old pair of trackie daks from the back of the wardrobe.
In a Dolce & Gabbana dress at Flemington in 2017 for Oaks Day.Credit:@kelliehush/instagram
My amazing colleague Glenda Bailey, editor-in-chief of the US edition of Harper’s Bazaar, also imparted this wisdom to me: fashion is your armour. A great outfit will make you “feel confident and kickass”. When you have a fantastic outfit on, you feel just as fantastic. It’s one of the many reasons I love investing in beautiful pieces I’ll wear for years. Likewise, if you don’t feel great in something, pass it on. Give it to a friend or charity, so someone else can enjoy it.
After six years at the helm of Harper’s Bazaar, and the luxury of being able to wear the most amazing fashion, there are still things I won’t wear. I don’t feel great in a suit; it feels restricting and ageing. That said, designer Dion Lee once photographed me in one of his oversized suits and it felt amazing. Like armour. I learnt something else that day: be open to trying on things you think you hate.
An important lesson I learnt from my jet-setting editor days was to pack an entire spare outfit into my hand luggage when travelling internationally for business. After a long-haul flight to Milan, I was due to go straight to my hotel, change and head off to a glamorous party at the Bulgari Hotel.
Sadly, my luggage and fabulous Kit Willow dress didn’t make it onto my connecting flight. I had nothing. The airline had given me a voucher to buy clothes, shoes, underwear and toiletries but after 32 hours in transit, and in a rush, I made a poor sartorial choice. The little black dress I grabbed off the rack in Mango was, ahem, revealing.
In the taxi ride to the hotel I thought it would be fine if I kept my hands by my side. I was the talk of the event.
But the most significant lesson I’ve learnt is that everyone has permission to change their style. Mine has – dramatically – in the past 12 months due to a change in career. I went from being a fashion magazine editor to launching a retail accessories brand. All those beautiful clothes and high heels in my wardrobe are no longer suitable for my day job. I need outfits in which I can pack boxes and meet clients. So now I’m obsessed with denim skirts.
I’ve always loved skirts, but denim is way more practical than leather and silk. My new favourites are from Zara, Paige and Club Monaco, while my most recent purchase is a black denim pencil skirt from Wardrobe.NYC’s collaboration with Levi’s. And once again, it’s been absolutely liberating!
Kellie Hush was editor of Harper’s Bazaar Australia for six years. She’s now a creative director and has launched the accessories label, The Way.
This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale October 6.
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