My style goal in life was to dress like Miss Marple’s sexy niece. Nipped in, tweedy, buttoned up but racy underneath. As I’ve gotten older and head towards actual Marpledom – can’t wait! – I’ve become less sedate and much louder in my dress sense. I love the idea of a style uniform, and I definitely have a look, but my craving for colour and pattern mean I’m not doing project 333 anytime soon.
One of the liberating things about being an adult is not giving two hoots what other people think. I’ve always been short of fucks to give but it’s now a finite amount and use them wisely.
Which is where the questionable trouser comes into its own. Preferably made of something with some Lycra for comfort and not slouchy in shape, if the pattern looks like floor tiles, curtains or a 70’s tablecloth I’m all over it. Mine are usually Boden ⅞ Richmonds and I do have loudest ones. You’ve just got to have trousers that make you do a happy dance.