Farewell my Marni skirt!

Last week for the very last time I wore my Marni cotton skirt, the most expensive skirt I ever bought.

Originally priced at over $700, I picked her up at a 30 % discount at the Belinda sale about 5 years ago.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Italian Marni label, it specialises in natural fibre women's garments. Dresses, skirts and tops are the mainstays of the label. Design-wise, Marni is architecturally influenced, using fabrics in a way that creates volume and structure, rather than form-fitting, or sexy.

This skirt of dark green polished cotton had a wide waistband and billowed out from the waist with some unfathomable seams and folds that two experienced seamstresses said they were unable to precisely replicate.

My friend Rachel is a contra-fashionista like me. We have a language of dress that is constantly seeking new experiences, but is never confined to commercial "fashion". She coined the term "skirt of skirts" to describe those amazing skirts that are so beautiful and so versatile that no matter how expensive they are, you will get good value because you just want to wear them so much.

Me and Petra at the outback nature study tour April 2009 

Marni skirt and Robert Clergerie pumps with silver heel just the thing for arty Broken Hill

This was my skirt of skirts. She has done parties, boating, fun, beach, more fun, out at night with fancy shoes, even on an outback study tour.

And though at first blush this might seem to be a story of wardrobe excess, think of it rather as a story of what I do best: wardrobe economy. My Marni skirt had been mended during its lifetime, with an addition of a button where the large press stud started to fail. And wash after wash, I would press and wear it again,  using a range of artifices to deceive the eye of the beholder ( I think!) that I was not wearing a 5 year old totally well-loved and worn garment.

It is the oldest trick in the book, used by magicians from time immemorial - distract the  viewer and make them focus on something else.

So on Marni's last day out, the other weekend in Coogee, I did just that. I teamed my dying skirt of skirts with tan suede sandals with butterfly motif (Maryons, Brisbane), a petrol coloured lace and satin body suit and Zambesi embroidered organza top. Black leather cropped jacket was at the ready in case of inclement weather. At the end of the day, I removed a vintage hand made glass button I had added a couple of years ago, and folded the skirt for the rag bag.

But before I did, I remembered my Marni skirt in these pictures.

Marni skirt-of-skirts ... RIP