After the Specsgate debacle it has been determined that my wardrobe is in need of an overhaul and who better to tackle this than Lizzie? She has discovered to her horror that many of my clothes are older than T, so after weeks of asking ‘Is that really what you’re wearing?’ every time she sees me, she has decided to take me in hand. Now T is flinging everything out of my wardrobe with barely disguised glee. Lizzie has set up a series of alerts on Vinted, sized me up, and is bemoaning the fact that at 5’ 10” with shoulders like Adam Peaty I am not going to fit vintage Chanel. I could have told her this was a bad idea.
I’m not sure I should rely on these two for fashion advice so while they’re busy ransacking both my wardrobe and my self esteem I am checking out some alternative sources of guidance. Given that I have neither the budget, the lifestyle, nor the coat-hanger physique for Vogue I’m looking to more terrestrial sources to inspire me with what normal women might wear if they want to avoid embarrassing their kids. First up is the Guardian newspaper’s fashion editor, a reassuringly shiny-haired, carefully Botoxed woman called Jess who has written a whole column about cardigans. This seems a useful place to start because I own a number of cardigans that Lizzie has just banned me from wearing so perhaps Jess can help me to prove her wrong.
Jess has several suggestions for how to turn the humble cardigan into Fashion. First she suggests that draping a cardigan over the top of a T-shirt and a blazer will give me a sexy French-girl vibe like Alexa Chung. But will it, Jess? Will I really look like hot millionaire style behemoth Alexa Chung? Or am I more likely to resemble a librarian in the early stages of dementia? Thankfully Jess has alternative ideas. The cardigan, she says, is ‘best with just a bra beneath, with the top few buttons undone’. Clearly the Guardian office has excellent air conditioning and Jess has secured a full complement of HRT. She then recommends wearing your cardigan completely unbuttoned as if it were a jacket. Hang on a minute, Jess. Am I still just wearing a bra underneath? Because that might work in Shoreditch but it’s going to raise a few eyebrows in my local Tesco. Should I dress like this for the school run? Are you going to help me explain when social services pop round? And since when has not buttoning your cardi qualified as Fashion? My grandma could manage this. And my grandma could be many things, but Fashion she was not.
Perhaps there will be more assistance on the opposite side of the political divide. The Telegraph’s Lisa Armstrong - OBE, no less - has written a whole article about jeans, which is another item I already own. Lisa advocates wearing your jeans to work and demonstrates this by showcasing an outfit that costs nearly two grand. Two grand, Lisa? Two grand? This suggests that a) fashion journalists (and Telegraph readers) are extremely well paid, and b) Lisa actually leaves the house to go to work and will therefore be seen by Other People from the neck down. I am going to hazard a guess that Lisa is not a self employed single parent. Thankfully, given that I am, wearing jeans to work is second nature. I can drag a pair out of the wash basket without properly waking up. And these days they don’t even have snot marks ringing the legs because T is finally tall enough to wipe her nose on my sleeve.
Evidently traditional journalism is not going to help me. And so to social media, where influencers advocate a method called ‘My 3 Words’ in which you pick three words that define your style and dress accordingly. Today T is rocking ‘Comfy, Sparkly, Unexpected’. Lizzie is leaning into ‘Cool, Sexy, Cheap’. Lizzie reckons that if I want to have any kind of success in life I should aspire to something like ‘Approachable, Stylish, Contemporary,‘ but instead the vibe I am projecting is more ‘f*ck This sh*t’. For once I may have to concede that Lizzie is right.
So let’s just say the makeover is on hold. T has sloped off to watch telly and Lizzie has vanished, presumably to find someone else to insult. With some trepidation I asked T what three words she’d use to describe me. Her answer? ‘Best Mummy Ever’. I think I can wear that.
Photo by Vanessa Rauer on Unsplash
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this post, please consider subscribing for free or sharing with someone else who might like it too.
