The weather was my enemy growing up. My health condition, sickle cell anaemia, is massively affected by the cold. When other kids wore cute cotton gloves to school, my mum made me wear leather gloves. I remember thinking, if I have to put on this armour every day, let me be good at it.
People just think I’m an immaculately dressed babe in the cold. But my winter style is more established than my summer style because I had to learn how to create outfits to keep me warm.
Outerwear, particularly leather, suede and mohair became part of my identity – and fashion helped me reclaim it. My style is minimal and pared back, but layering on a secondhand leather coat, or accessorising with a bag, makes you feel like part of a fashion story.
I think a lot about how fashion intersects with my health condition. I always loved fashion and did work experience at Vogue when I was younger. During the pandemic, when you were only allowed to leave your house once a day, my stepsister and I would go to the brick wall at the bottom of our road to take outfit pictures. I was in my first year of university at the time, which was playing havoc with my health. I never expected those pictures to turn into the work I do now. But fashion allowed me to breathe again and have fun. It taught me to slow down and look after my body.
I like my leather to be vintage, not brand new, so I can imagine its previous life. The best part is that somebody else has done the hard work of breaking it in, so it’s soft and fits perfectly from the jump.
You never forget your first leather jacket. Mine was a black biker-style that I picked up when I was 15. At the time, I was obsessed with a designer leather biker jacket with zips on the sleeves, but I could never afford it. Mine was a similar shape and it felt so cool and edgy at the time.
Now I’d go for something boxy and oversized, like the brown leather blazer I found on Vinted for £75. I was searching for something like the Arket or Massimo Dutti brown suede jacket, but I love this because I’ve never seen anything like it. If you search for something enough, I’ve found that Vinted cleverly starts putting similar things in front of you – it’s a world of discoveries.
For me, the thrill is in the treasure hunt. I like investing time in looking for a beautiful piece of clothing. Playing around in charity shops was always my favourite thing to do. I would scour the rails in bougie areas of west London for things I could give a new lease of life to. I’d go into school on non-uniform day and people would be asking: “Where did you get that?”
Now, thanks to Vinted, you can search for specific brands or styles. I use the filters to ensure I only see items that are in very good condition. I get inspired by how other people style their pieces and I always ask for photos of clothes being worn to see how they fit.
There are rules to buying secondhand leather and suede, of course. Always ask the seller for labels to check an item is 100% leather, size up if you want to wear a chunky knit underneath and check you’re happy with any defects. For me, it’s details such as zips and cuffs that make a piece stand out.
Boots have always been my thing. One year I had a bad sickle cell crisis in my feet because I was wearing stupid ballet flats to school, so my mum bought me a pair of massive leather boots. After that, Doc Martens became my go-to.
Now though, I’m more likely to hunt for leather bags instead of boots. It was Vinted that got me into bags. By far my best find is a vintage designer bag with an iconic handle. I got her for about £350 and I love the buzz of telling people she’s from Vinted, like your labour is paying off! Wearing her makes me feel like a fashion girlie.
I always ask sellers for some proof of authenticity with a designer bag and for photos of the inside. For designer pieces, Vinted’s Item Verification service adds another layer of reassurance. It means the item is shipped off to Vinted’s verification hub where experts check it over and confirm it’s real – totally worth the extra £10.
Day-to-day, I rotate between three designer bags – one zebra-print, one vintage croc-effect and a burgundy-brown bowling bag. All were £350 or less on Vinted and came to me as a happy result of somebody just clearing out their wardrobe. The bowling bag draws the most compliments, and she arrived with a card authenticating it from December 2000, so she was once a Christmas gift. The seller sent a note to say: “I hope it serves you like it served me.”
It was while completing my law degree – despite being hospitalised 12 times in my first year at university and constant admissions and treatment throughout – that I started to post about sickle cell on my Instagram. I had so many messages of support. There’s a lot of taboo within the Black community about the “curse” of sickle cell, but it is a genetic condition and we need to talk about how you can live with it positively.
For years my mum advocated on my behalf. She studied law too, and she was a widow with three kids – all of us have sickle cell and other conditions – but she somehow managed to knock it into me that this condition will not define me.
She wrote so many letters for me growing up, fighting for me to be allowed to wear a coat in school, or to re-sit an exam or to challenge injustices in the health system to get me what I needed. Now I’m able to take that fight and energy to inspire others.
My mum always says: in life, what matters more than the circumstance itself is your reaction to the circumstance. When I play with leather or suede, I am building a uniform that gives me confidence to go out and live my life.
That treasure you’re looking for? It’s waiting on Vinted
Photography: Phill Taylor/The Guardian. Hair and makeup: Bethany Anderson. Prop stylist: Zan Morley
