A red dress for the holidays sounds a bit clichéd, but with a dress like this one, who cares about clichés. I kind of love the 70s vibe of this Gucci number, too.  Zara has two flirty frocks that I rather like –– this one with frills and a sleeker, more dramatic option that I’ve been eyeing for weeks. If you’ve got red shoes and you can pull off a red lippy, I say go for it, and paint the town red.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had much to do with what my eldest child wears. From a very young age -– maybe two and half –– Iole knew exactly how she wanted to dress. On her third birthday, I wrote her a note on the back of a post card that said, “ich bin mein stil” –– “I am my style.” At that time, her outfits were an eccentric mix of hot pink tutus, tiaras, cowboys boots and frilly tops. These days, she’ll rarely wear a dress. And her choices are steered by comfort and conformity. Physical comfort has always been a priority, but dressing to fit in, that’s new. To her chagrin, I won’t buy, “teenager clothes” –– tops that show her belly and leggings with dollar signs on them –– but I do understand, that for now, at least, flower crowns and fairy dresses are out. Iole still knows how she wants to dress, it’s just not how I would like her to dress. And so I resist the urge to force her into a pretty frock with velvet bows and printed tights, because I know that that is my taste, and not hers. And because few girls want to be the kid in polka dot culottes when your pals are all in jeans. One day she may choose to stand-out, but today, all she wants is to fit in. And so we navigate our way through this awkward terrain, (that my Mum and I navigated our way through, also) where I accept her need to feel the same as everyone else, while gently whispering to her that it’s okay to be different.

“Fashion makes me feel like the other version of myself, like my Sunday best,” wrote Sarah Jessica Parker in an interview on Net-a-Porter. “Just putting stuff on creates a feeling so specific and different than every day. Anytime you are in a fitting room, it’s very much about you becoming something else, and sometimes it’s a familiar place, but sometimes it’s completely pretend. I think a lot of other women want to feel that.” Most of us believe in the trans-formative power of fashion. Indeed, woven into the hems of skirts and sleeves of blouses is some weird, wonderful magic that makes us feel sexy, strong, smart, demure, delicate, prim, whimsical or wild. In the right dress, you may even feel all those things at once.

I’ve always been a magpie for things that sparkle. In my early teens, one of my favourite party pieces was a mini skirt made up of hundreds of fucsia sequins. I’m amazed it survived as many fêtes as it did. In my late teens, I got pushed into a swimming pool on New Year’s Eve wearing a full length red sparkly gown. That dress did not survive. When I turned 18, my father took me to Whistles as a birthday treat, and we came home with two bags of bejeweled cardis, tops and dresses. Even after all these years, I still have one of the sequin tops and a beaded cashmere cardigan the colour of pink champagne. These days, this is just the sort of boho frock I’d like to throw on late summer, or mid-winter with a big woolly sweater.

In the game of who’s coming to dinner, Iris Apfel always tops my list. And after listening to her speak in Toronto last night, I know she’d be a dream at any dinner party. Talk loudly and slowly –– she is hard of hearing –– and don’t bother with mindless, Kardashian chit chat. Avoid politics. Ask her where she bought her first pair of blue jeans, or which First Lady was most involved in re-decorating the White House (Pat Nixon). Don’t bother with selfie requests, just snap the pic. And if she compliments you on your outfit, smile, and tell her that you take inspiration from the fearlessness of fashion greats. She won’t stay for long –– she is 95, you know –– but half an hour is all you need. What a fabulous, sharp-witted, daring broad.

I can’t recall the last time I wore sheer black tights, maybe 1993, under a satin puff ball skirt at Dominique Westaway’s disco party.  Polka dots, like the ones on Clémence Poésy are a lovely choice, and lace is pretty, too. Lace legs make me think of my Mum, whose skinny pins always look so great in lacy tights and black suede pumps. Go on, let’s give sheers a go.

I’m a sucker for colourful stripes, and these ones from Mara Hoffman are too fun to miss out on. These two girls look like a pair of deck chairs –– and that’s a compliment. Take a look the whole collection. It’s colourful, playful and effortless. And that’s a trifecta complete in my wardrobe.

There are people out there who dress up like it’s Halloween every day of the year. They wear extreme eye makeup to the dentist, neon wigs to the grocery store, and outlandish hats to pick up the kids from school. Here’s to all you fearless originals out there. I salute you.

When I met Jason in 1997, I was well into trainers. I wore my Nike Air Max with everything –– jeans, track suits, skirts. There’s an outfit that stands out in mind: black crêpe tuxedo pants, round neck plum merino sweater, a black velvet coat and white air maxes to finish. Maybe it’s what I wore on our first date, and that’s why I remember it. My hair was long and my eye brows were over-plucked. It was a good look. To this day, Nike is my go-to trainer. There’s a pair of adidas athene that I wear once in a blue moon, but really, I’m a Nike girl. These are my latest pair, a gift from Jason, who 20-years-later, says that outfit was the coolest.

“I’ve always thought of accessories as the exclamation point of a woman’s outfit,” said Michael Kors. I mostly agree. But when an outfit is as sensational as this Delpozo, one needs nothing more than the confidence to wear it.