The shacket – half jacket, half shirt and a really good idea, despite the silly name – is this column’s swan song
For 20 years, I have been dressing up every week in the look I write about in this column. Today I’m in a shacket, of which more later. I’ve road-tested boilersuits and blouses, prairie collars and pencil skirts. I’ve shoulder-robed, I’ve clutched, I’ve French-tucked, and I’ve worn every hemline– well, so long as it is knee-length or longer, that is. (Funnily enough, I have never in all this time felt compelled to share here my thoughts on bikinis.)
Every week, for 20 years. I won’t do the maths because it makes me feel ancient, but I think you’ll agree that it is time to switch things up a little. So the shacket is my swansong, as it were. I’ll still be here, writing about fashion and style, but I won’t be doing the show-and-tell photograph.
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