I’ve been clothes shopping…

I am not, to anyone’s mind, ever going to become a fashion icon. Let’s rephrase that, given that I’ve spent most of my life noting that you should never say never, it seems highly unlikely that I am ever going to become a fashion icon. I kind of begrudge spending anything significant on clothes, I have almost no ability to colour co-ordinate, and I take care of myself in a relatively haphazard way. I don’t much like ironing either, although I acknowledge it’s necessity. For, if I’m honest, walruses and high fashion tend to be strangers.

It’s not that I can’t afford to dress well, it is perhaps that I prefer to spend the money on travel and, from time to time, good food.

There was a gloriously short period when I escaped my usual colour palette of blues and greys, but I was stick thin to the point where the staff I managed started trying to feed me, I had a 29 inch waist and my collarbones stuck out. At that point, I could look like Che Guevara meets Regency - I had the hair, the beard, the burgundy and lilac waistcoat and the gold pocket watch. Everything else was chaos, and my stress levels were through the roof, but I did look good. It didn’t last.

These days, I dress predominantly for comfort. Given that there isn’t much cause for me to dress formally, my vast array of shirts goes unworn, the two boxes of ties that I have somehow accumulated (how, I have no idea) are seldom given an airing, and the suits that I do have may fit - I have no idea and probably don’t want to. I really ought to have a sort out but I’m not one to get rid of things that are still in perfectly good condition.

Ros is of a slightly different view. She does see the value in paying a bit more and buying things that look good. Neither of us go mad though, we’re both a bit Presbyterian about such things, but there are some things where spending that extra amount is justified - I believe the phrase is “anchor outfits”, the items that you can mix and match around. For me, that’s jackets. I still miss the forest green corduroy jacket that I bought in the Brussels outlet of Celio, a French menswear chain that had some interesting stuff. I wore it to death and mourned its passing.

Which brings me to today. We’ve been keen to support the independent retail outlets near us, as they offer something a bit different to the retail chains, and may well represent the future of Ipswich as a shopping destination. And we’d seen a corduroy jacket in the window of a shop on St Peter’s Street which looked rather like something I’d wear.

So, as Christmas is approaching, I felt that a treat was called for, so we popped in to have a closer look. And, sure enough, there was one that fitted and actually looked good on me. Yes, the price tag was a bit more than I’d normally pay, but having something nice is no bad thing, so I got my card out and committed retail therapy.

Perhaps there is something to be said for being nice to oneself from time to time…