The Rules of Style (apparently...)

So, there was this party, a couple of years ago. Gorgeous birthday lady had invited thirty women, the house was warm and smelling of tasty food, there was lots of very nice wine - and then birthday lady told us that she had organised a clairvoyant, and another mystery guest.

The clairvoyant never showed. There were lots of jokes about what impeding doom had caused the clairvoyant to fail to show up.

The other mystery guest turned out to be a gentleman in a tweed three-piece suit, who had been booked to give us a talk on fashion and style. I admit to being dubious, looking him up and down. It was a dated but clearly expensive, green-brown tweed suit with massive lapel wings. He acted as if it were normal.  So we all sat on gorgeous birthday lady's squooshy leather couches and listened to this fellow.

He was a good speaker and told us lots of funny stories. As to the style advice - he had four rules, which I have kept in mind, and I think all four points are extremely sound. I will substitute my own stories.

1) The Rule of Standards (and Matching Underwear)

The proverbial 'grandmother' used to have a saying: "Always wear nice underwear in case you get hit by a bus". I had thought this was code for 'Only loose women don't wear any undies'. But this gentleman carefully and charmingly explained, straight-faced and without innuendo despite being the only man to a room chock-full of drunk women in their 30's and 40's, "that your underpants should match your bra, and there should be no sad, droopy or thinning underwear in your underwear drawer.... Not to impress anyone, not for a man, not even your husband, and not because anyone else would see your underwear, - but just for yourself, because you have standards." And underwear does not have to be expensive, he explained. It just has to fit, be comfortable, and be of a certain standard.
This idea of 'standards' is quite powerful. If you maintain standards with underwear, many other things follow.
Later that week, I emptied out my underwear drawer and threw out a third of the contents because it didn't fit or had passed a point of no return. I then went to my favourite outlets and got my first Matching Set. I wore it somewhere inconsequential, like the fruit shop, and felt like an empress.
Not that all your underwear always has to match. White shirt and black un-lined pants? Wearing a white bra and black undies may be a smarter plan.
Only that what you use is fit-for-use, and that everything - even your undies - are up to the standard that you expect for yourself.
The technique works in other parts of your life too: out with the weevil-eaten lentils and the mystery unlabelled cans; out with the nasty pilled sheets your grandma gave you; out with the broken furniture or electronics that you're never going to fix; out with shoes that hurt your feet, old cosmetics, nasty acrylic yarn that is not fun to knit with and doesn't make you happy.
Nice underwear is a lovely way to start.

Corollaries for The Rule of Standards:
Always take care of your skin, hands, feet, and hair, to maintain a standard with which you are happy. Wear sunglasses and suncream in the summer, do any gardening or physical work in gloves, simply because you are entitled to the basic standard of not being in pain.
Always fractionally overdress for the context, so you don't feel uncomfortable being under-dressed; anyway, overdressed people can comfortably slot in to most situations higher up the hierarchy, especially women. Pearls are a great way to fractionally overdress.

While this tweed-clad style consultant was telling us about the importance of matching underwear, one of the ladies piped up. She had apparently heard him speak before, and had been inspired to get a black satin diamante-studded Matching Set of Underwear. She had worn it to bed (by herself, she insisted, as we giggled). She said she is a squirmy sleeper. The diamantes all fell off, and dispersed through her bedding, into her pillowcase, into her fabric-covered button-studded bedhead, and throughout her bedroom. There was a trail . She was vacuuming them out of crevices for months.

2) The Rule of Colors

An outfit should link the top and bottom halves of the body with a common colour. Subconsciously, we rate people as more attractive when their outfits match.

• A dress or coat which crosses your midline instantly creates a 'matching outfit'.

• Black and white are neutral colours, and go with anything - but they have different subconscious effects.
• Jeans go with many things because denim has a white (or sometimes black) cotton warp. Jeans go best with a white t-shirt - just see James Dean.
• But for every other clothing colour, you should make sure that whatever colour you wear on your bottom half, you have a linking piece on the top half of your body. 

You can have the whole body in one colour or fabric pattern; an outfit can be a sharp tailored suit, a muumuu, or paint-smeared corduroy overalls.
You can have a solid on one half, and a pattern on the other half: black and blue print harem pants look great with a blue t-shirt.
You can use a very small amount of colour to link your outfit: a scarf that works with a coloured stripe in your shorts fabric; blue-green skirt + turquoise earrings; red patent leather shoes + matching red lipstick and nailpolish.
Look at these totally gorgeous people of quite different styles. They all tie the colour from their top half to their bottom half. The outfits just work.

Corollaries for The Rule of Colours:

• Leathers should really match too. Your shoes should be of the same colour leather as your handbag/wallet and your leather belt. If you wear a hat, you might pick one where the band matches, or a pattern colour links in to your other leathers. Set this up now to match any outfit top-to-bottom effortlessly. This spring, I am living in my milk-chocolate-brown cowboy boots. I only get away with it because of a panel in my handbag of the same brown. Throw on the shoes, grab the handbag, and I'm set.
• Toning colours is quite acceptable. Light and dark versions of the same colour do indeed count as 'matching'.
• Match what your kids wear (tantrums permitting). A boy with a natty red dinosaur on his T-shirt which matches his red shoelaces will get more free stuff and more benevolent smiles than one in a blue & green top, and brown & grey bottom, and orange & black shoes.

3) The Rule of Posture

 

You can get away with almost anything if you stand up straight and act like you belong there.
Men with good posture become more important. Women with good posture are perceived as more beautiful. (To my knowledge, there has not been a study on whether women with good posture become more important - this is an appalling research oversight, but typical of patriarchal social norms.)


This is not just perception either. There's a neurochemical mechanism for it.
One of my favourite recent TED lectures included some research on how simply standing in a "Superhero" dominant posture for a few minutes a day triggered measurable increases in testosterone in saliva. Changing to a good posture was linked to improved performance in job interviews, marks in grad school - and by extension 'success'. 

So - shoulders back, head up, make eye contact, stand square and symmetrically. Walk with grace, and don't ever fidget, cower, slouch, flop or twist yourself up in a funny shape. Even if you are in a terrible way on the inside, stand tall. Use the feeling that you're wearing matching underwear, or pearls, to help your posture improve. Nobody significant, famous or glamorous has bad posture.

4) The Rule of Lace

 
So now you've got Standards, your Colours are all sorted and your Posture is good. There's only one thing missing: being visually interesting.
'Lace' is my tweed-wearing gentleman's catch-all phrase for a feature texture or pattern in your outfit. It can be some beading, something metallic or reflective, a small amount in a contrast colour, a piece of writing on a T-shirt, a striking piece of jewellery, an intricate hairstyle, bows on your shoes, or anything else.
Expensive designer things almost always have a 'lace' feature, or are designed to go with things that have a 'lace' feature. It can be a Coach bag with its classic pattern and shiny clasp, or the velvet trim and nonchalantly perfect pleating that 'just happens' when you do up the Armani jacket, or the whole vibrant Missioni dress.

But 'lace' can just as easily be the chunky chewable teething beads which are the only jewellery you can wear when you've got a grasping baby, or your old oversized digital watch, a red patent leather belt from an op-shop, or a dandelion in your top jacket buttonhole.

The lace feature is where the eye is drawn. Put your lace feature on your body thoughtfully - what impression are you trying to give? If you really want people to look at your cleavage, have a shiny pendant hanging low. If you want people to look at your legs, try green tights. (I love my green tights.)
People will look at your feet if you have striking shoes: forcing them to look down at your patent leather stilettos can be a way to achieve immediate dominance, but on the other hand, scruffy sneakers can totally undo an otherwise positive imporession.
Peripheral accessories have their uses too.
Drawing the eye to something on your hand (a watch, a bracelet, a ring) can give the impression that you are a person of action. More so if it jingles, or if you move your hands as you talk. To use this effectively, attend to your hand posture: don't pick your nails or fidget with things.
Glasses draw their eyes to your eyes. Dark sunglasses draw their eyes to your mouth. Be aware of this, and learn to use it. Celebrities do.
Drawing the eye to a handbag or clutch gives the impression of wealth.
Drawing the eye to your neck gives the impression of vulnerability, sensuality, and human contact.

You can also use lace to draw the eye away from things you don't want people to look at. Are you worried about your waistline, or your less than perfect ageing physique? Wear a hat, and nobody will look.