I am not style

On Saturday I found myself in a large department store in Glasgow. I was there to purchase a shirt, possibly two, to get me through the endless round of Christmas nights out, lunches and whatnot that will inevitably start to pile up towards the end of the year.

So I was looking for the smart/casual combination and as I wandered round I started to realise that I’m not style and, frankly dear reader, I never have been.

Don’t get me wrong, growing up I succumbed to the fashion senses of the day, I had a plastic, neon orange belt, neon pink and yellow socks (always worn with one colour on one foot, the other on the other), and the tartan effect jeans to go with them. I had a hypercolour t-shirt, a brightly coloured ski-jacket. Hell I even had a shellsuit at one point.

However even within the strict confines of school age fashion, I always tried to steer away from the norm and I guess it was back then that I discovered my own style.

Which is to say that I don’t really have one, other than that I won’t blindly follow what other people think look good, instead I’ll wear what I think looks good.

However, not having your own style leads to problems if, like me, you take cues from a variety of sources. This approach finds me in Converse skate shoes, jeans and an “independent” t-shirt one moment, and the next in brown leather slip-ons, dark jeans and a John Rocha shirt.

And it’s not that I mind this so much, I’m not style icon but I’m comfortable in what I wear, but I do look on at others with a distinct style with some envy. Walking around the West End of Glasgow (firmly in student land) confirmed just that, so many people with a strong sense of their own style, and there I sat feeling quite the middle-class corporate whore.

Perhaps it’s not envy of their style from which I suffer, but more the desire to make sure I’m not just another middle of the road person, that I too can make my mark.

I dunno.

Regardless I found myself circling the various departments and trying to make sure I bought things because I like them, and to hell with what anyone else things.

After all, I may not be stylish, but I do have style.

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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Ian's mum says:

Sorry Gordon but you are just’maturing’.

mum says:

This is obviously a ‘mums’ comment area! Never thought I’d see the day when I could say I love a ‘middle class corporate whore’ but there you go, gotta move with the times. The best thing is you always look like yourself (straying into the ‘Gran’ area here!) so therefore you LOOK comfortable in your skin, so you can be a style icon – if you want to – in ‘effortless comfort’ There, that make you feel better? Love from the Queen of elasticated trousers.

Fashions come and go, fads are even quicker – Style never dies and baby you’ve got buckets of the stuff!

mum says:

Thanks Peggy – it’s hereditary

“…I had a plastic, neon orange belt, neon pink and yellow socks (always worn with one colour on one foot, the other on the other), and the tartan effect jeans to go with them.”

All the time I’ve been reading this blog, and never once did I guess it was written by someone from a UFO. ๐Ÿ˜‰

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