Thanks to Okka and the style column for Slomo, I’m suddenly excited about Mondays. Today’s (surprisingly exciting) subject: corduroys!
There are some things in my closet that I just can’t explain (three random examples: a flower print dress with a puffball skirt, a pair of sheer white cotton trousers, a nylon baseballjacket). But I can explain why I now own corduroy flares in burgundy: it’s my friend Sandra’s fault. She came to visit me last week wearing these trousers and looked so cool in them, that I started asking her all kinds of questions while she was still standing in the hallway: Where are they from? Do they come in other colours? Can I try them on right now, please?
Later that evening I told James I was going to have to buy a pair of corduroys the next day. James, who never buys anything without thinking about it and therefore, irritatingly, has a wardrobe in which everything goes together, just said: “Okay.”
“But I tried on some corduroys last week.”
“And they just always remind me of those boys in art college, the ones with frizzy hair and tie-dyed t-shirts.”
I thought about it for a second and said: “I see your art college boys and raise you Ali MacGraw, around the time of “Love Story”.”
James, not being an expert on that particular movie, gave me a questioning look. I explained: “The corduroy has to be fine, not too heavy. Worn with heels, not trainers. And a peacoat. Perhaps a blouse in soft pink or a denim shirt. Also, I don’t even own a tie-dyed shirt! I think.”
Ali MacGraw in the 70s has now given me another shopping idea: the polo neck jumper.
But that I couldn’t really explain to anyone.