The trials and reputations of Tabitha Talbot-Jones: wanton student stylista
When I told Daddy I wanted to study fashion he nearly choked on his panini; he had been harbouring hopes of me doing some absurdly fusty and old-fashioned degree like History or Law. Can you imagine? Me, in a Laura Ashley beige twinset, or worse, like a frigid old librarian decked out in polo necks and tartan kilts (and not the Pringle variety)? No thanks. I don’t want to hole myself up for the next three years with a load of books and essays to write – my complexion already suffers terribly from vitamin D deficiency, with every moment of spare time devoted to Poseur, my online magazine.
I think I made a strong case to Daddy, I gave an emotional speech about freedom of expression and asked if he really wanted to throw away my obvious talent for style. He quickly came round and agreed to fund me for the next three years – I think he was keen for me to sit down because I was embarrassing him in front of Uncle Ginger with my demonstration of how my clothes represented my personality. God, he’s soooo repressed.
So here I am in Brighton – via St Martin’s, but that’s another story – studying my lifelong love: Fashion & Dress History. Just little old me and Felix, the dear old puss (well I couldn’t very well leave him alone with Mummy and her boisterous Great Dane Bruno, he’d have ripped him to shreds by now). And so a new chapter in the life of Tabitha, a new home, new experiences, new people, and my first time living solo (apart from India of course). Admittedly my new digs are a touch on the bijou side and I share a bathroom, but Daddy insists it’s good for character building.
Mummy and Daddy helped me move in and we were sitting having coffee in the kitchen, when Harry, my housemate, swanned through wearing spray on jeans and a backless neon yellow t-shirt with a slogan reading ‘The GAY Team’ plastered across it – you should have seen Daddy’s face, it was too funny! I’m fine with gays, god whatever, they’re everywhere these days and Harry is so very good for me – he always tells me how amazing I look, and has the most extraordinary way with a sewing machine. He’s going to be a world famous designer and I’m going to be right by his side yelling to Daddy “I told you so”.
Until next time.
Tabby
