Right, here is it. One of the most important pieces of style advice anyone will ever give you: Get Your Colours Done. If you're thinking a) reeeally? and b) what the bleep is 'getting your colours done?' read on and prepare to be amazed.
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In a nutshell, Colour Analysis is all about establishing which Season you are and the colours you should be wearing to look your absolute best (there are 4 seasons; 30 colours in each). It's about enhancing bright eyes, a clear, even skin tone, a sharp bone structure and an overall I've-slept-10-hours-and-slathered-on-the-touche-eclat glow. Sound too good to be true? Well, let me assure you; it genuinely, hand-on-heart, works.
Ask anyone who's already had it done. Some colours wash us out, others magnify our eye bags and a chosen range makes us look 10 years younger. The beauty industry makes billions out of people wanting to look healthier, less tired, more radiant etc. The simple trick that absolutely all of us should be doing is wearing the right colour palette to enhance our natural beauty.
As a stylist I realised fairly early on in my career that in order to dress my clients to look their absolute best, I needed to know which colours to put them in. Having always chosen colours instinctively, I soon realised that to understand the optimum shades to wear it was all a bit sciencey. It involves looking at your eye and hair colour, the undertones in your skin, the intensity of your features, and going through a draping process to determine which reds make you look jaundiced and which blues make you look reborn. Magic eh?
For the sceptics among you, let us flag an underlying concern. I agree; there's a historic whiff of naffness to 'getting your colours done'. For me it rings a vaguely embarrassing Hyacinth Bouquet-esque, head to toe in fuschia-magenta, memory alarm bell. I vividly remember doing a massive internal eye-roll when my mother suggested to the 15 year old me that I should go and visit her House of Colour lady to find out if I were more of a True Spring or a Clear Winter. I can still recall the mortifying horror of it all and my point blank refusal to do anything so deeply, deeply uncool. Ah, the arrogance of youth with our perfect dewy skin and our chiselled jaw lines.