THE STYLE EXPERT?

Judy would be the first to get it right: a self-proclaimed style icon. The woman always steps out of her meticulously manicured abode wearing something avant-garde that has people putting two fingers to their foreheads and asking, What is she wearing? You could spot her from a mile away—the pristine mane and oversized sunglasses, the outfit that could set a trend. 

She has an opinion on everything to do with them, and she’s not afraid to relay that information loudly in the coffee shop, like a walking narc. She struts around like she’s better than everybody, looking down her nose at anyone who dares to leave the house in something that isn’t the height of sartorial brilliance. You venture into the street wearing something that could even be considered ‘last season’ and you’ll get that special look of disdain that will have you convinced you’re the dorkiest loser on earth. 

She takes accessorising to a whole new level (hey, she carries around a miniature poodle in a miniature designer bag, you know—who else but her could rock a tiny pooch as a purse?) as if to coax the rest of us to jump on the bandwagon and start the trend of ‘pooch purses’. 

I’m endlessly amused and exasperated by the way she rolls her eyes at someone who is obviously ‘not cool’. She has whole summers of mismatched patterns and clashing colours, and sometimes she appears to take her sartorial decisions from Picasso paintings!