Ugh, freshly cut grass. Ugh, red wine. Ugh, the sticky hand of a toddler using you as a wet wipe. The reasons not to wear white are multiple.
I’ve sometimes avoided wearing white out of personal prejudice. I’ve never picked up a pair of skinny, ripped white jeans because I think I’d look silly wearing them; a blank white T-shirt feels like a waste of money (it will inevitably be covered in spaghetti sauce stains after a week); and crisp white shirts are only for weddings, right? White is “classic” while I’m more of a “by the seat of my cream-coloured trousers” type of guy.
Male celebrities wearing all white (think Russell Brand, Johnny Borrell, Kanye West) do it as if accompanied by invisible exclamation marks. What are you really saying when you wear all white? If you don’t think your clothes are suggesting a dormant Messiah complex, I don’t believe you.
You’re supposed to wear white when the sun is out, but I have to admit I’m a bit of a summer goth: clinging to my blackest, most heat-absorbing T-shirts, and remaining a refusenik when it comes to shorts.
But I don’t want to end up in a self-made style rut. This look is not something I’d normally choose to wear and yet, surprisingly, I’m enjoying it. The grandad-collared shirt is made of linen, and so is airy and almost invisible, while the trousers have the feel of pyjama bottoms.
Admittedly, when I peer at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but feel like a lost member of a religious cult, or a retired jewel thief on the French Riviera, or a human marshmallow. But I should quieten those voices in my head. The truth is, I do really like this outfit.
