On Uniform

I like the idea of a uniform. If those minutes spent each morning, bleary eyed, staring into the chasm of my wardrobe trying to assemble an outfit that will simultaneously make me appear impeccable, capable and attractive could be stricken from the day I would be forever thankful. I have a habit of adding up the  insignificant times, the moments that become days, weeks, months spent faffing around. How we dress is such a small part of who we are yet I  spend incomprehensible hours looking at clothes, at pictures of clothes, clothes on people whose lifestyles are so far removed from my own that they ought to be of no interest at all. 

I only need to open a magazine to be confronted with endless  rails of dresses, jackets, trousers, shoes, handbags at unobtainable prices, draped over women that lead unrecognisable existences. I should know that buying that dress or adding that must have,' staple', handbag to my collection will make me no more accomplished than I was without it. What we do and perhaps even more importantly what we wish to do with our time, because that is one commodity magazines and the like cannot sell back to us, should be the sole factor that influences our sartorial choices. Looking smart, in control, “well put together" would then naturally follow.

In my teens I spent the bulk of my days with my horse. I worked on a livery yard and the only thing I would change to attend college were my shoes. Sometimes I wouldn't even go that far and stroll up to the gates having only removed my chaps.  I never wondered what to wear when I got up in the morning, everything, down to my bra, was dictated by purpose. Sadly I am no longer a pony mad teenager. I have a life that revolves around a different and more varied arena. The clothes I buy now must serve from home to the office and all the usual in-betweens. Nevertheless I think that if we try hard enough there is a uniform to be had here as well. 

Of course we can wear the same thing every day. As much as we are encouraged to think it: life is not a fashion parade. A uniform is perfect, fitted to task and requires no further thought than having it pressed and neatly hung ready to take on the world. 

At least then I might have time for breakfast.