Whats’ in My Wardrobe – Corduroy

There’s something deliciously deviant about stealing time for a swift half on a weekday afternoon. This made my Artful Dodger homage feel all the more appropriate. Granted, sitting outside in a bright rust ensemble doesn’t exactly lend itself to playing truant but it’s worth getting caught rapid. Putting an outfit like this indoors would be like putting Baby in a corner – totally uncool and punishable by the ghost of Johnny Castle. So, what exactly makes this outfit worthy of wardrobe hero status? Easy – corduroy.

Fustian enough to fend off a westerly wind but still able to accommodate an unseasonal temperature spike; consider corduroy a peri-menopausal weather foil. Anyone who lives in Ireland knows, winter is never a sure thing (see also: spring, summer, autumn). Getting dressed requires cross-referencing at least three weather reports and a quick prayer to Saint Jude that at least one of them gets it right. When you don’t know whether to play it safe in a metric tonne of wool or risk hypothermia rather than carry a coat about your person, split the difference and stick to corduroy.

Which therein begs the question: how does one carry it off without looking like a history professor, Woody Allen or an extra in That 70s Show? Simple – play to your opposites.

I chose fishnet tights and corset strap heels to offset any would-be questions about Nixon or Watergate. I then added in my favourite Lennon Courtney shirt and capped it off with a baker boy hat (see what I did there!) and an obi belt-come- necktie stolen from one of my dresses. As for the glass of Guinness, that was gone in about 20 minutes. O.K. – 15.

There. Job’s a good’un. Speaking of which, I should really get back to work.

Hair: Aviary Lane Photo: Hazel Coonagh
Jacket, Mango Committed; Shirt, Lennon Courtney for Dunnes Stores; Trousers, Zara; Shoes, Vince Camuto; Bag, Om Diva; Hat, George’s Street Arcade; Guinness, The Glimmer Man