CONFESSIONS OF A STYLE GURU..
I really thought I had it made. Last week I paid a rare visit to Marks and Spencer in a quest to kit myself out for the coming winter. In keeping with tradition, I went for the tried and tested Blue Harbour trousers and rugby shirt in a fetching shade of fawn; all topped off by a new pair of Nike Air trainers in darkish blue, the white laces of which required changing to black in order take some of the glare of the startling white away from the predominantly blue background.
This adventure was followed up the day after by a visit to my stylist, Chris of Larkfield, whose skill and dexterity in reshaping my coiffure were tested to the limit. Sharp is hardly the word for the result - more `edgy.` So that was me done......that is until over the weekend I noticed that prominent figures such as politicians, footballers, management types, BBC presenters, all seemed to have a different `presentation` to that which I had just acquired.
Problem is that, if I go to all that trouble, I suspect I might feel a complete twonk, even though I might have the comfort of knowing that I will be right up there with the good taste and style of modern day life.
This adventure was followed up the day after by a visit to my stylist, Chris of Larkfield, whose skill and dexterity in reshaping my coiffure were tested to the limit. Sharp is hardly the word for the result - more `edgy.` So that was me done......that is until over the weekend I noticed that prominent figures such as politicians, footballers, management types, BBC presenters, all seemed to have a different `presentation` to that which I had just acquired.
I wondered what the problem might be when suddenly I twigged that there was something missing in my outward appearance and if I was to maintain my status as a fashion icon, a style guru, then I might need to make a few changes after all. So I`m seriously thinking about growing a beard, wearing open necked shirts, perhaps a scruffy jacket and a big handbag, getting the odd tattoo and implanting random bits of metal on assorted areas of my body.
But most of all I need to get into the habit of carrying a cardboard coffee cup around at an angle parallel to the ground and leave people guessing whether there really is any coffee in it or whether it`s yet another clever but subtle fashion accessory. And last but not least, I need a name-tag on the end of a bit of string so I know who I am, even if no-one else does.
But most of all I need to get into the habit of carrying a cardboard coffee cup around at an angle parallel to the ground and leave people guessing whether there really is any coffee in it or whether it`s yet another clever but subtle fashion accessory. And last but not least, I need a name-tag on the end of a bit of string so I know who I am, even if no-one else does.
Problem is that, if I go to all that trouble, I suspect I might feel a complete twonk, even though I might have the comfort of knowing that I will be right up there with the good taste and style of modern day life.