When your top ends halfway down your legs, the art of clothing yourself looks loftily abstract
I would like to be the kind of woman who exudes elegance and cool authority in long, loose layers, rather than the kind who feels scruffy and short. And while leg length is an issue, the fundamental problem is one of mindset. My knee-jerk reaction when I feel the need to smarten up is to wear clothes that are more fitted. A tailored, waisted jacket feels smarter than an oversized, cocooning one. A close-cut black dress seems more “cocktail” than a loose one.
And I need to get a grip, because this mindset is unforgivably basic. Basic in the pejorative sense of eye-rollingly lame. My tight-equals-smart mindset is idiotic, but it is everywhere. It is why women buy the smallest dress on which they can do up the zip, rather than the size that is most flattering, which is usually the next size up. It is why the Roland Mouret Galaxy dress– tight, formal – was an instant hit, and lives on to this day, in that any full tube carriage at rush hour will boast at least one sleeveless, wool-mix, back-zipped shift dress. It is as if Lycra infantilised us into being able to tell if clothes fit only when they are sausage-skin tight.
Related: What I wore this week: the dress-down hoodie
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