Fashion & wardrobe.

This look is pure Jo'burg meets Nashville — a long-sleeve denim-print bodycon dress with a trompe-l'œil belt and pocket detail, finished with sand cowboy boots. It's casual, it's sculpted, and it has just enough attitude to make a Tuesday feel like an event.

Cowboy boots are one of those things people think they can't pull off. Nonsense. The pointy toe elongates the leg, the stacked heel gives you a little lift without the agony of stilettos, and the whole thing whispers I know exactly what I'm doing.

The scent: Tom Ford Lost Cherry. Black cherry, almond, vanilla and sandalwood — rich, boozy, and impossible to ignore. It is not a shy perfume, and neither is this look.

Some days you need heels. Some days you need boots. Both are power moves.

Today's weather is a full winter/spring confusion — budding trees on our walk, and yet still that Jo'burg July nip in the air. So the look followed suit: a soft grey cropped knit for the chill, and burgundy skinny jeans for the promise of spring.

The finishing move is the pencil-heel mesh ankle boots — sharp, a little bit sheer, a lot of attitude. Because a good ankle boot on a confused-weather day is basically a mood stabiliser.

The scent: Calvin Klein CK One Essence. Lord have mercy, it is fresh and vibrant — clean citrus, a whisper of green, the kind of perfume that makes you feel like you slept eight hours even when you were up at 4am.

Dress for the weather you have, and the weather you're hoping for. Layer the difference.

I love dressing up in winter, and this look is so simple. The jeans and the boots are everything — and the cream cable-knit jumper? My mother knitted it years ago. Every time I pull it on it feels like a hug from home.

I can see myself walking down Madison Avenue in New Yorkand totally fitting in with the rest of the faux-fur lovers. The more the better. Faux fur is winter's best editorial trick — instant drama, zero animals harmed.

The look is rounded out with the perfect scent: Dior's J'adore. I remember the gorgeous Charlize heading that campaign for Dior, and as a fellow South African I really supported and loved the soft, golden scent.

I don't have summer and winter scents. Wear your signature — or whatever you feel like smelling of that day. Why be so rigid about perfume? Wear what you love and love what you wear.

I love this look. It has a retro elegance that reminds me of the Sex and the City moment where Carrie wears a newspaper-print top — all New York, art-in-stilettos energy. It's over-the-top, but that's exactly the point.

The dress itself is strapless, covered in black-and-white newsprint and pale blue butterflies, and finished with the most delicate pale pink heels. Stretford, as usual, loves the camera more than I do — and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Dressing up is something I've done since I can remember. My mother would take me shopping on a Saturday, and if she didn't watch me intently every single second, she'd find me posing in the department-store window, acting as if I was a mannequin. I loved posing. I still do.

This look is a reminder to live — to drag every morsel out of life that you can, because it can be taken away in a heartbeat. How do you want to be remembered? Do you want your last memory to be one of regret that you didn't do more, see more, experience more?

The best lives are lived by the ones who never say no, who always push the limits, and who do not fear the results of their decisions if they were made with a pure heart and a gentle, loving intent.

I look completely miserable here, but it's from a lack of sleep watching Spain make it to the World Cup final. Viva España — my newly adopted country. Today, though, I'm wearing England on my chest: a nod to the part of my heritage that still lives in my heart, and to the years I lived in England.

Also: justice for Sir David Beckham. The man is a national treasure and a style icon. End of discussion.

The outfit itself is sport-meets-glamour. The white England track jacket keeps it casual; the gold leggings bring the drama; the Nike high-tops ground the whole thing in "I might actually kick a ball today" energy. It's comfortable enough to wear through a match, a workout, and a nap on the couch — which, given my 15-minute movement sessions, is exactly what I need.

Fingers crossed for England — and that the pain stays bubbling lava instead of blowing its top like Mount Vesuvius.

My nod to Sarah Jessica Parker. In the intro to Sex and the City, Carrie wears a pink tutu — and then in her bus poster, a version of the shoes, like a ballet slipper. This whole look is my love letter to both.

I loved ballet as a little girl. I was so good at it — really very good. I was put en pointe within the first ten months of me dancing, and I loved it.

The entire outfit is so great, so arty — a statement if ever there was one. I have to admit it was a birthday-dress contender last year, but the gold dress won. I'm so happy with this look. I can hear "I'm Walking on Sunshine" playing in my head every time I see it.

I don't look sick, right? Not all that glitters is gold — well, actually, I am golden — but the outside is so far removed from the raging bull named FND that besets my days.

I look at the picture and I am happy. I find joy. This makes me feel like I can walk amongst the many without a siren above my head, without a crowd screaming unclean, unclean! I'm no leper — that would be far more obvious — but at least I get to wear pretty clothes and heels and feel "normal" for a minute. Or whatever "normal" is.

Don't cry for me, Argentina. I'm a fighter. I claw my way up the mountain each day, reach the summit, fall back to earth, and do it all over again. And now that I think about it — I wouldn't have it any other way.

How amazeballs is this dress. And the shoes. You can see I'm feeling myself — that smile, that look. I really love this dress.

The warm ochre and shadow-black remind me of a Vermeer painting — I could totes be in the Netherlands, standing in that golden window light.

I feel like Tina Sparkle in this dress. Wanting to do the bogo-pogo. I fell in love with Baz Luhrmann watching Strictly Ballroom in high school — and now Baz curates and assists with the Met Gala for Anna Wintour. Who knew everything would come full circle in such a beautiful way.

"A life lived in fear is a life half lived." — Strictly Ballroom

Summer knocked and I answered. This dress — the halter neck, the ruffled skirt, the way it moves — is everything. And it's backless, which makes the whole thing feel like a secret you only notice when I turn around.

The shoes are zebra-print heels, yellow and black, doing the most in the best way. The massive Michael Kors tote in olive green is the kind of bag that holds your whole life and still looks expensive on your shoulder. I was a whole snatch in this look — gorgeous, and I literally stopped traffic. Like, literally.

Perfume on the day: Jean Paul Gaultier Classique — the original for women, that corset-shaped bottle, all vanilla, ginger, rose and amber. It's warm, it's bold, it's a woman who knows she's arrived.

I think I'm always trying to channel Carrie Bradshaw. She is my style icon — I love her so much. The tutu, the heels, the city-as-runway energy. This look is my love letter to her: a little dramatic, a little soft, and completely unapologetic.

Backless, flowing, zebra heels, and a tote big enough for my whole life. Carrie would approve.

Some Sundays, knocking out a solid dress look for church isn't what happens. Sometimes in Jo'burg, there are blue skies and sunshine — but it's cold. Bone-chillingly cold.

The ruffled Freddie jeans are everything. What you can't quite see are the Brazilian designer boots tucked under the hem. And the gold touch running through the jersey? Epic.

Perfume of the day: Tom Ford Black Orchid — dark florals, black truffle, patchouli, a little decadence for a quiet Sunday at home.

Just a snack. A whole snack.

Full disclosure — because FND and gastroparesis distress have been in charge lately, I've lost another 5 kg. Dear Lord. The jeans hang differently now. I'm still here, still dressing up for myself on a cold Sunday, still choosing the good perfume. That's the whole plot.

When you know, you know. I am Andy Sachs, aiming to be Miranda Priestly. If only I could have worked for Anna Wintour.

That is exactly why I studied communications and majored in English and journalism. The dream was always the glossy masthead, the September issue, the click of heels down a marble hallway.

I love Meryl Streep and everyone else in that film — Emily, Nigel, Stanley Tucci's every eyebrow. J'adore.

"Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking."

The That's-All bag energy — quiet gold hardware, tan leather, a life waiting to be lived in it.

When I was invited to my very first work event, the invitation said "smart casual". I had to google what that even was. Years later, I think this picture is my epitome of smart casual — with a touch of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

As girls, we all wish for those massive coincidental "cute meets". But we forget she was a lady who sold herself as her life business, even though she wanted more. What we really want is a knight in shining armour — one who takes away our doubts, our insecurity, our financial worries.

Be that as it may — I paired this outfit with Flowerbomb perfume and a Chanel tote. Could there be anything better? Even my phone cover was a caricature of Karl Lagerfeld.

Make better choices when you dress — but don't be a coat hanger. Wearing one designer head-to-toe is just lazy. Find your own self and your own voice. Authenticity is the best flex you'll ever have.

And I'm hearing Madonna sing Vogue. Can you?

The cutest little dress — ruffles down the front, tie neckline, floaty leopard chiffon sleeves. How spectacular are the peep-toe furry boots? Bohemian to the bone.

Scent on the day was Ted Baker Original. I know it's not a winter fragrance — my best winter scent is Tom Ford Black Orchid — but I think Black Orchid can traverse seasons. Fragrances shouldn't be pigeon-holed.

Speaking of pigeons — did you know Mike Tyson kept pigeons as pets before he was famous? Random fact if there ever was one.

And I can hear The Weeknd singing "I Feel It Coming" with Daft Punk. Let's dance — South Africans love to dance and sing. We are the best people and country in the world. I dare you to prove me wrong.

When winter hits, I become full on J-Lo. The boots are my new obsession — a tiny wedge that's covered all round, cream leather, knee-high, quietly powerful.

The faux fur jacket with a mix of baby pink for contrast — it's all soft muted tones. The jacket and boots make the look. The jersey is from Poetry, the Freddie jeans fit like a glove, and the finishing layer is Tom Ford Orchid Soleil — warm, floral, unforgettable.

Always making a statement. When I walk into a room I want people to ask: "who's that girl?" — and when we meet, they will never forget the scent I'm wearing.

What people forget is that people judge you from the second they see and meet you. So shake the earth to its core when you make an entrance. Scream loudly on the inside — yes girl, you've arrived.

The jacket, the boots, the scent. That's the trinity. Everything else is scaffolding.

A very Jo'burg winter — crisp light, high sky, no need for a coat until sundown. The fur trim is a touch of elegance; it lifts a simple bardot top into something quietly cinematic.

I am really partial to a leather pant. It's such a versatile look — day to night in seconds. A crisp knit and flats in the morning, swap for a heel and a red lip by seven. And don't sleep on how amazing the boots are — cream, slouched, knee-high, doing all the heavy lifting. The whole look is a statement piece.

Perfume on the day: Tom Ford Black Orchid Soleil. The handbag left inside — classic Gucci, the one that never dates. Tom Ford is my new love in terms of perfumes; the man is exceptional.

Fur, leather, cream boots and a Black Orchid mist. That's a Saturday in Jo'burg — dressed for yourself first, everyone else second.