I feel the appeal of the furry gilet as much as anyone: cosy, duvet-like, Flintstone primal
The furry gilet falls into the following important, underdiscussed category: things I love and wish weren’t as naff as they are so I could indulge in public. See also: elaborate hot chocolates with whipped cream; romcoms with actors from Friends.
A furry gilet is so cosy. But it isn’t cool. It is a bit School Gates Glam. As in: yummy mummy, car keys in hand. The gilet over skinny jeans, say, or over running leggings and a sweater. And School Gates Glam is probably my least favourite dress code in the world, my issue being that it is a peculiarly infantile form of glamour. It is glamorous in the way a three-year-old in a nylon princess dress is glamorous: ie, the wearer believes herself to be glamorous, rather than anyone else.
Related: What I wore this week: an army-green shirt
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