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Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Do It Like A Dude

Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled I remember when I was growing up, my idea of feeling confident was wearing tight clothes. I cropped it like it's hot, 'bossed a bodycon' and who liked short shorts? Me apparently. But with age, like most things, you change your taste. My fashion is now for fun. I couldn't care less about flaunting my figure, I'm happy with it but I dress completely for me and not for anyone else.

Upon last count, I own over 100 tops. I probably rotate the same ten. So the 90 others just collect dust which is why I can define my style. I'll never be the cool girl. I'll never throw on a pink faux fur coat and some snakeskin boots and be able to leave the house. But I'm okay with that. Nine times out of ten I'll get to work and my whole team will be in head to toe black like we've planned a squad uniform. Or just last week I rocked this very shirt to the office and a guy from my department was wearing almost exactly the same one. I was pretty close to instigating a 'who wore it better?' social post but he was balancing half a dozen brews for his team so I restrained.

As I've got older, my clothes have got looser. And that's not down to age. Ironically my body's in the best shape of its life. Christ knows why when I drink wine like it's going out of fashion and my diet is not to be desired. When I was in school, I dressed how I thought I should dress to fit in. I, and I say I, but my parents too - spent money on brands that looking back, I didn't really like, but I didn't want to stand out. I guess the same goes for the tight clothes. Don't get me wrong, I still like fitted clothes - I practically live in my skinnies, but I feel like I'm at a good place with my style.

I wear things if I feel good in it, if it's fun to wear, if it's comfortable and if I feel like me. And ten points to Gryffindor for any garm that I can literally throw on and go, which is what this shirt is. White shirts get a mixed reception. Most people I know hated wearing them at school and only drag out from the back of their closet when an interview crops up. I live in mine. They can look smart but paired with your worn in blue denim and some loafers, can transform from workwear to weekend. And if the man in your life has shirts, they're basically yours too - what's mine is yours right? And sorry but we will probably rock them better and mean we don't have to haul a huge bag of clothes every time we come over. A win win for everyone.

I love oversized styles and it means I can potter about the house in the morning looking vaguely chic. I will never be cool but I hope I'm a little bit chic. If Ralph Lauren can't make me chic, I don't know what can. So the next time you think shirts aren't for you, give his a go. He won't notice where it's gone and if he does, pull out the sharing's caring card.

Shirt: Ralph Lauren

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