You can have anything in life you want if you dress for it.
Edith Head (Academy Award-winning Costume Designer)
This spring has been the coldest in thirty years in Switzerland and that’s not me going “Brrr, it’s cold” and wrapping a shawl around my shoulders, the bigwigs at Swiss Meteo said so. After three solid weeks of May rain and a loosening of C19 restrictions, I sat outside a café, basking in glorious sunlight, allowing a balmy breeze to brush my cheeks with a softness that exceeds most pleasures in life. It was a whole vibe. People were pleased to be out, eating food which was not in the form of something they had cooked themselves (if I see one more home-made, banana bread loaf, I’ll lose my shiz…), or a take-away meal holed up at home.
The simple pleasure of sitting outside a café being served a delicious treat was a luxury. A well-groomed Pomeranian sat quietly at its owner’s feet, eyes half-closed, its fur blowing in the gentle wind. Suddenly, the dog began barking with every fibre of its little body and we all turned round to see what had triggered the intrusion into our peace. It was barking at a woman, who was just as shocked as we were by the little hound singling her out. We all laughed at the Pomeranian’s tiny ferocity, as its baffled owner tried to soothe it.
I, helpfully, suggested that it might be the red colour of the woman’s trainers (sneakers) because some animals see that colour as danger, or an imminent attack. Secretly, I knew why the dog was barking – it was agitated by the woman’s horrendous sense of style. It wanted no parts of the eighties-inspired, bedazzled jumper, the patterned, ill-fitting trousers (a good two sizes too small), which were neither cropped, ankle-gazing or long and just seemed to stop at whatever length they desired, the purple crossover bag and of course, the red trainers. It was a lot of confusion. The dog tried to tell her.
It takes a certain kind of dog to make a person take a good, hard look at themselves in the mirror and think about their style choices. A fashion Pom that barks at badly-dressed people… that’s a dog I want. I kid, of course.
However,(!) talking of badly dressed people, I found myself watching the Eurovision Song Contest, a programme I haven’t watched in years because of the political voting. Also, I can’t seem to watch it when I’m not at a Eurovision party in England, surrounded by sarcastic, tipsy people making fun at all the countries who won’t vote for us (so… all the countries).
Switzerland made it into this year’s finals, so I was intrigued by what that offering would look and sound like. It sounded… fine. Even Boyfriend sat down to watch and root, loudly, for his countryman. A small caveat here – he would not watch Eurovision if he were offered a large sum of cash money. Diamond-encrusted cash money. Fellating, Diamond-encrusted cash money… And yet he whooped and cheered and punched the air when Switzerland was top of the leader-board – “suck it, France!” And France sucked it, for a while, until it didn’t.
Gjon’s Tears 
Gjon’s Tears
The young singer Gion’s Tears, had a great voice and the Jury for most of the countries in the competition acknowledged that, awarding Switzerland very high points. Nevertheless, I was not convinced the public vote would amount to much. Here’s why – public image. Gjon’s Tears, despite being handsome and incredibly likeable, wore what can only be described as some sort of blouse, with very high-waisted grandad slacks and white trainers. The whole outfit was off. Graham Norton, the narrator for the BBC, commented on how he must have “rummaged through the dress-up box” to decide what to wear.
I was puzzled by the decision not to properly style him for a globally broadcast singing competition. Surely, someone in his camp could have advised him not to dress like a 7-year-old who’s been given carte-blanche to wear whatever he wants and chooses to dress like he’s in a tragic play about a 7-year old who wears his grandad’s trousers.
There’s a reason why one of the tv singing competitions makes the judges face away from the talent- people listen more with their eyes than with their ears. For this reason, I guessed the public vote or Gjon’s Tears would be low. To be fair, I was disappointed that he came third, pipped to the post by the godawful Italian entry – a pseudo rock entry with some ‘rap’ thrown in.
Although, what one wears is not the sum total of who a person is at their core, it is a physical representation of the person we want others to see, the representative we send into the world. Sometimes, when that representative looks like they can’t be bothered, the same attitude is reflected back to us. It’s unfair but unfortunately, that’s the way it is. A friend of mine once rented out her apartment to a tenant who, later, absconded after months of non-payment because he was the only applicant who “wore a suit”. It’s a shallow world but that’s what we’re working with. So, Gjon’s Tears, next time you’re on a tv show that’s streaming worldwide, hit me up for some pointers; I’ll gladly style you in the right direction.
