At work we’ve engaged a stylist to give a more personal service and help clients pull together the right ‘look’ from our range of clothing. Part of this process is to highlight a body type (apple, pear, banana) and dress accordingly – for which read we’ll try to disguise your lumpy bits. I have eyes and a mirror, I know what I look like. Do men worry about being an apple? I can’t think it even crosses their mind.
Do we find some reassurance from knowing we resemble a piece of fruit? Wrapped in clothes that make us feel good no-one will notice the size of your bum, just the contented smile on your face.
To add to this there’s the wonderful adage ‘dress your age’. Is that my actual age or my mental age because in my mind there’s a huge difference? And which killer of joy made the rules on what was appropriate?
I’ve just been to see the new Bond movie (which is fabulous by the way). For once there is a lust interest for Bond nearer his own age played by Monica Bellucci (gasp a woman in her 50’s). Before you start with the groans about her being made-over by experts etc I’m here to say on that IMAX screen you can see her maturity written all over her – and she radiates, with the most wonderful aura.
Yes she has all the components of beauty but it’s more than that, she looks like a woman comfortable in just her knickers. Perhaps you have to hit 50 before you can capture that. Or perhaps I should be sitting here in La Perla lingerie instead of .. ok let’s not shatter the illusion!
So, do clothes maketh the woman? Do we need the stylist before we can find our own confidence? Or can we throw caution to the wind (along with the spanx) and, instead of using it as camouflage, wear something just because it makes us feel good ..