The French didn’t notice at first the slow annexation of his wardrobe. At first glance you might think that the white shirt I am wearing is mine, if a little loose, unbuttoned to a barely decent degree and with the sleeves rolled up. If you looked closely you would see a slightly oversized shape and a bit more slouch to it. I wear it with a red lipstick and a watch for jewellery. The French had only noticed his wardrobe shrinking after his favourite tee had gone missing and was found, alive and well, on my back. Then there was his watch and a cable knit jumper. And another of his All Saints tees, soft and threadbare, with an image of Brandenburg Gates faded to nothing.
It’s sneaking up on me slowly but I already know it – soon it will become a major style shift for me. Borrowed from the boys trend, a little austere, a little tough, it can be very grown up and classic, luxurious in rich hues of charcoal and oats, and soft textures of quality cotton and supple leather. It can be “bad boy” in slouchy threadbare tee and beaten up leather jacket. It’s subversive, sexy in a subtle way.
Perhaps The French will be relieved to know that there are alternatives to his clothes. Take for example that blue striped Equipment shirt, purposefully oversized and cut from fine silk. Or an All Saints motorcycle jacket with thick padding on the elbows. I’ve started an Equipment fund which along with Mexicana fund (more of which later), should get me from lust to ownership fairly painlessly.
In the meantime, I already have a Christmas present for The French sorted. He’s getting a grey cashmere hoodie in XS.