Why it's so hard to get dressed these days

No you're not alone. What I learned as a non-fashion person in a fashion world (including that time I got asked in a job interview if my handbag was "real")

As I mentioned (sorry), I was recently in Paris for work, where I was transfixed by the general air of chic as everyone sashayed about the place. It was Fashion Week, but never mind the catwalks - it’s much more interesting to know what everyone is wearing in the streets or bars, I think, which I clocked as:

• Light blue straight long and slightly loose jeans.

• Severe black tops or structured fitted jackets

• A small dog (or, at a push, small furry dog-shaped handbag)

And yet, of course, if you follow that formula you could just as easily look as if you’re heading to the corner shop than out to a party. Which rather sums up how tricky it can be to translate, if you’re interested, Fashion into Outfits. Or, to face the special fraught hell that is Shopping, where dreams meet reality and budgets.

That’s an area in which I have expertise (defined by a lack of it elsewhere), as a non-fashion person who passed through the fashion world. As deputy editor of a fashion-focused magazine, I arrived from newspapers where the uniform was a wrap dress and kitten heels, or a blouse, slacks (these were very much slacks) and slingbacks. Gender politics aside - the men wore suits and ties, the women kept heels under their desks in case they were called up to the editor’s office - I loved the ease of it. It was the most straightforward way to dress since I’d worn school uniform. Nothing really ever dated - corporate wear defines itself by being classic - and I always looked smart. Fashionable, no, but smart, yes.

At the magazine, this was not the goal. This was the first time I’d seen someone wear a crop top to work. For a while, everyone was in maxi dresses and bright white trainers, a look now being satirised by TikTokers as the “mum” uniform but at the time very handy. Jeans were now an option, though, which caused me confusion - what was office appropriate? Dark denim only? No frayed hems? - while the fashion department down to the juniors had access to hefty discounts and oodles of freebies, which upped the stakes considerably. It was much more boring socially but sartorially a relief when we took a very long time to get back into the office post-pandemic. At least I could easily look smart from the waist up.

With my colleagues at a Substack party for Paris Fashion Week; corporatewear in the wild (with a Real Housewife); the fateful handbag

At which point, I had better address the inevitable cry that none of this matters.* And yes, even being able to care about it at all is certainly tied up with privilege. But I’ll just share the story of how I was once asked at the end of an interview for another job, if my handbag “was real”. Yes it was, I replied airily, rather than getting into the semantics about what the alternative meant - having the day before panic-bought it, one of the most expensive items I’d ever owned, after worrying that my corporate wardrobe wouldn’t cut it in this new environment.

Which, as it turned out, had been the right instinct. I wasn’t even interviewing for a fashion role, but sometimes they are judging you, it can have real-world impact, and in that situation the right outfit can be your armour. As it turned out, I didn’t get the job, but that panic-buy has been one of the best things I’ve ever bought, cost per wear. (The interviewing editor later got fired.)

And now I’m in a world where I work full-time remote, except for lots of in-person meetings in town which causes new confusion: pretending to dress for an office job I don’t have. After work drinks or events? Once this was simple, now it would feel bizarre to climb into office-appropriate workwear after a day of being in a tracksuit from the waist down. I could pretend I’ve solved it, but not yet. 

Whatever happened to retail therapy

I say this not just to moan on, but because I think I am not alone. The shops aren’t much help after all, when these days everything I’ve spotted online seems to be sold out or missing in most sizes in store. Instead there is the tide of plastic that fills the racks, as manufacturers try to keep their rising costs down. Dodging the tide of scratchy acrylic knitwear is a full-time mission on a trip to town. As for that supposed staple, jeans… jeans?! It seems to be impossible to get a pair that won’t instantly lose their shape - I blame the rise in elastane, lurking in the stiffest-seeming denim. Stretchy clothes, like the oversized trend, make sense for retailers wanting to reduce returns from online shoppers if the fit doesn’t work.

The joy of shopping? Photo by No Revisions on Unsplash

And the prices! You’re not imagining that it’s all more expensive than it used to be - clothes and shoes have tracked the painful inflation of recent years which outstripped earnings. Meanwhile, the mid tier of retailers has been hollowed out - it’s a precarious place to be, without the margins of luxury or the scale of budget. Which partly explains why the choice, depending on what you’re reading, can sometimes seem to be between The Row or knock-offs of said Row. (Please fashion gods, let me never read another article heralding M&S’s latest range as a return to the high street’s prior form. By now, we all know the goodies will immediately sell out online and never be seen among the racks outside the North Circular.)

So, our clothes are often worse quality and costing us more than before. I don’t think that is even quite the full story either - I suspect a lot of us are climbing up the price points to get what we used to be able to buy, so it’s even more pricey. No wonder it can feel harder to get dressed these days.

Help is on the way dear

But it’s not just about the quality or the cost. Even at the best of times, getting dressed can be tricky. Like our money or our weight, what we wear can be a fraught topic, tied to both of those things, and potentially painfully expensive and awkwardly visible when we get it wrong. I see the appeal of those fashion designers and tech CEOs who have said eff it to the whole thing, and dress solely in black or polonecks. But it’s boring, and at best fashion is so fun - as even some tech CEOs agree (see Mark Zuckerberg in a Connell chain and Balmain tee).

Happily - yes, this is cheering up! - with change comes opportunity. These days, some of the most interesting fashion writing is being done by people outside the traditional structures, as on this very platform, who don’t have to worry about upsetting the advertisers. (Ever notice how those fashion show write-ups can get incredibly detailed about the clothes and their influences, without a hint of whether the writer likes it all or not? If in doubt, rest assured every knows it’s terrible but can’t really say so explicitly without fall-out.) As with a lot of things, the old structures are crumbling and we are making up new rules to live by. As for mine - coming next week, to stop this turning into a 3,000-word opus.

In the meantime: what about you? What are your fashion faithfuls? Have you given up shopping these days, or just gone mad with your credit card (and if so, what on earth did you buy)? I’d love to know…

*I once read a comment flagging the amount of caveats pieces published online now contain, to stave off people telling the writer all the ways they’re wrong, and now I can’t stop seeing people writing like this - including me. No more!