What I wore this week: clashing prints

Commit via snakeskin with a plant print! Hurl yourself off the cliff with batik and a cartoon print! Shout these words to yourself when you’re getting dressed!

Morweena Ferrier
‘Clashing your prints is hardly an act of civil dissent.’ Photograph: David Newby for the Guardian

My boyfriend is colour blind. In his words this makes him a “rare and special flower”. In reality, it just makes recycling hard. Still, one man’s struggle is another man’s New Gucci, which is the general thinking behind what’s happening here. And there’s a lot happening, isn’t there? The top is a swimsuit, the skirt is stretch and waffle-y; together, colour-wise, it’s tantamount (apparently) to a colour blindness test.

Clashing your prints is hardly an act of civil dissent, but it’s something we’re generally discouraged from doing. We are told to match and blend, to colour block at a push. Clashing your prints either looks accidental (generally interpreted as a cry for help) or interesting (considered), both of which are hard to do without looking as if you’ve thought long and hard about it. You know, like no-makeup makeup or bed hair, both of which are incredibly lame.

So how to do it without looking like a tool? New Gucci, or Gucci because the designer in question has been there for a couple of years, is behind the colour clashing. Their MO is eccentricity so that’s the way to go, and the key (according to their catwalk and campaigns) is to go hard. Commit via snakeskin with a plant print! Hurl yourself off the cliff with batik and a cartoon print! Shout these words to yourself when you’re getting dressed! It’s an alpha look, so imagine you’re Leaning In when you do it. The whole thing hinges on complementarity which, like a weird marriage, is both bewildering and confusing, yet somehow works.

Of course this is all big talk for what is essentially an outfit. Especially if, like me, your wardrobe veers between two tones: sober (black and navy) and neons, which I usually whack together so as to resemble a crap flag. So where to start? Kandinsky, said someone pretentious, although it’s quite clear that the top is based on the inside of my school coach and the skirt the carpet of an unloved pub. My advice is: go for whatever makes you feel a bit dizzy to look at or, if you are colour blind, feels strangely familiar. 

Jess Cartner-Morley is away.

Morwenna wears Bodysuit, £24.99, hm.com. Skirt, £180, houseofholland.com. Shoes, £55, office.co.uk

Styling: Melanie Wilkinson. Hair and makeup: Laurence Close at Carol Hayes Management

morwenna.ferrier@theguardian.com