The Grooming Standard
I had lunch today with an 'acquaintend' - halfway between a friend and an acquaintance - and it made me feel horrible. The woman, who we'll call Honey, is one of those people who is so perfectly turned-out you she instantly makes you feel like all your clothes don't quite fit. You are also acutely aware that your hair, which moments ago felt glossy and lustruous, actually has a halo of frizz at the hairline. Oh, and your roots need doing. And your shoes are cheap and, moreover, past their best.
In fact, a whole outfit which moments ago seemed chic and bang on-trend, now seems curiously shapeless and tawdry.
Honey swanned in (she's very swanny) wearing a mustard-coloured sweater dress and trousers. This should not work. Even skinny people have to wear something under sweater dresses - or have ribs at least - and no-one in real life looks as smooth as an olive-skinned statue in one. Except Honey.
She practically smells of money, too. But the most galling part is that she's not really aware of how perfect she is. For her, flawless skin, non-frizzy hair and discreetly expensive clothes are just part of her day-to-day life.
I am blaming lunch with Honey entirely for the fact I left the restaurant and spent £200 on clothes in the half hour afterwards.