Jackets off… Time for a formal introduction

After my last post I realised how rude I have been! Let me introduce myself, I’m Red. Born and bred a Londoner, I have always been surrounded by life and culture. I love watching people; be it walking down the street or on the tube, every face has a story. As a voyeur, I relish the chance to watch the lives of those around me, but as an enjoyer I thrive on the drama created by not only myself, but those around me too.

The best days of my London childhood were always the weekends. Long lie-ins and lunches at my family’s favourite Italian place, which when lucky was followed by afternoons of window shopping at Harvey Nicks.
The great thing with London is that you can be surrounded by rich conservative dressers in designer suits one minute, and the a bus ride later you can be swimming in a sea of platformed goths in Camden or indie kids in Portobello. Fashion and art are so relevant in London, one of the globe’s cultural capitals, and even better it’s only a train ride from the romantic capitals of Europe.

I have always been consumed by the idea of fashion and romance. Not necessarily people’s love for material things, but that how we dress is affected by our life and mood. (A large part of which can be manipulated by our emotions and relationships with other people.)

So I hope you enjoy my thoughts and ideas.

Lots of Love

The London Red

Woman in a Man's Shirt.

Can wearing his clothes mean more to him than you?

During a recent visit to a CPF’s* house I came to think about the intentions behind wearing men’s shirts. While I have always conceived the fact that wearing the shirt of a male friend may be the ultimate attraction to him, I started to delve deeper into why.

It struck me that while a woman may wear a shirt to retain the smell and the feel of her man, be it a Harvie & Hudson oversized or a Lacoste polo, a man might give you his clothing in subtly possessive fashion. I gather with younger men who live together that wearing an item of their clothing can be their way of making their mark on you, thus protecting you from predators while you walk around with the strongly attracting aroma of endorphins. However as a woman wearing my man’s clothes I feel a sense of sharing and belonging.

I spoke to a friend of mine on the subject who has recently been going through the trauma of giving back what I gather is an extremely comfortable shirt to an ex lover. While she has a ‘real’ intention to give back the shirt, she also has a sneaky ability to avoid the return. I still question whether this is a way of avoiding the man himself, or keeping the trophy as a memory.

Hearing of my friend’s trouble then made me ask myself whether it is in fact the feel of the clothing that we fall in love with when we grow an attachment to our men’s clothing, or what the clothes symbolize. Personally, the idea of wearing a part of ‘him’ means more to me than the actual shirt, however a close relative of mine has a rather impressive stash of shirts and various other items of men’s clothing that she has collected over the years. This even includes an old boyfriends Eton scarf, which a number of years later he offered the trade for his Bentley – how sentimental! Does this show that the clothing symbolizes more than the intention to show his ‘candy’ to his friends?

I think I’d follow suit and keep the scarf… it’s not everyday you can wear a scarf that’s sentimentally worth 50 grand … then again… maybe I’m just too romantic.

*close personal friend