So almost everything in our lives has been simplified these last few years. And I think that is no more clear than in my dress sense. I simply wear black these days – black t-shirts and cover tops, black leggings, socks, pants, shoe, coat and scarf. Everything else in my life has been shed – suits, shirts, jeans, ties and definitely anything colourful. My wardrobe is so easy and slim to manage now. The only time I change from this format is when I change from wearing leggings to shorts (black or v dark grey) in the summer with short socks and my only concession to colour, my Converse trainers. Boring eh. The reason I’m telling you this is that I made the change to shorts a few days ago. And of course the weather has turned overcast and wet since then so you can blame me for the inclement conditions. Ha! (btw leggings are back on today, hopefully temporarily).
No not a lowly Royal in-law but a rather elegant tie knot favoured by one of the guests we met last night at my wife’s boss’ dinner party. It was a really fun do and not only did I meet some very nice people, particularly C’s lovely boss, but also discovered the pleasures of eating a la raclette, learned some interesting stuff about the construction techniques of castles mentioned in the Doomsday book as well as the joys of performing live plays in Latin and the earthier delights of sailors’ brothels in Ironbridge. Yes our dinner guests were all from the academic world you may not be surprised to learn but what a pleasant diversion it was.
I have to admit to a high regard for those guys whose dress sense looks so effortless but oh so cool. Especially if the blokes are of a certain age, you know middle-aged and greying a little or, heaven forbid, carrying a little less on top. But certainly carrying a few more pounds than they did in their 20’s. I’m going to exclude from my list of the best dressers, guys like David Beckham and Frank Lampard because they are young, fit and way too good-looking for their own good (as my nan used to say) and, since they are also richer than Croessus, can employ stylists to help them pick their daily head-to-toe Armani ensembles. No I’m talking about the guys who seemingly throw on some regular casual togs and just end up creating a distinctive almost iconic look. Almost as if they weren’t trying. If I didn’t admire them so much, I’d have to hate them.
You know me; can’t resist thinking about the searing issues of the day. And today I’ve been mulling over what makes certain people dress the way they do (such a deep thinker). Or more precisely what compels someone in the public eye to go to the trouble to create a style which is highly distinctive and at the same time completely frigging weird. Continue reading