Don't wear that: Fleece

Raúl Peschiera on fashion faux pas

Most celebrity relationships are doomed to fail. Social pressure demands that two beautiful people be twice as gorgeous when they are a couple. But all too often, they sink under the weight of our collective expectations.

And while the gossip pages have taken no interest, I must confess with hand on heart and more than a little sadness, that similar expectations have meant the English summer and I have been drifting apart for years. It arrives late, sulks about like a sick cat in the pantry and, before you can say, “Nice weekend?”, it slips quietly out the door.

No, autumn—with its cold, metal-bright mornings and chestnut trees bursting with conkers—is what Britain does best. But like all those other cosy, dependable relationships, we take it for granted. This would be bad enough, were it not for the added insult of the fleece.

Perhaps we’re in denial about our absentee summer—those light frilly frocks that went unworn—but why turn to an old, bobbly fleece for warmth? Reeking of the linen cupboard’s lavender and patchouli, the fleece is the sartorial equivalent of someone who has lost the will to live. Even the prettiest of us can’t carry off the scruffy, shapeless fleece, which, let’s face it, has the texture of an undercooked potato.

Who wants to look like this? The only defence is that there is something worse than a fleece. It’s a homemade jumper.
Let me clarify. Being offered any clothes made by family and friends is about as pleasant as slipping on a pair of used Speedos. Frankly, homemade clothes are the botflies of fashion. Invariably, whatever the loving intentions of the one who sewed, knitted and pearled your tanktop, jumper or cardigan, you always end up looking like you’ve slipped your arms through a pair of trousers. Why would you do this to yourself?

If you are pining for our estranged summer, pull yourself together and put on a scarf and a good, light alpaca coat and head out into the evening lit up like a Turner painting. Give up your fleece and hand knits and, if the guilt is too great, donate them to a charity shop. You won’t look back, you won’t be disappointed, and you can get on with enjoying our finest season while you still can.