It’s that time of year when I get to change my wardrobe round, not that I have such an extensive one, unlike my wife, that is. What you can see of her clothing is like an iceberg, with only a fraction visible at any one time. The rest is kept in the depths of the many wardrobes we have, while mine is relegated to one half of one. Not that I am complaining mind. I have got to the age where less is more and only buy something when I need it. I rotate my underwear and socks to ensure maximum lifespan and have a one in, one out policy. Doesn’t everyone do that at my age?
I do, however, have summer and winter clothes, kept in separate piles. Now that the equinox has passed and the mornings are quite cold, it was time to swap one pile for another. This also gives me a chance to pare down anything that I am unlikely to wear again. I admit to keeping a few clothes for sentimental reasons. I will never get into that leather motorcycle jacket again!
So, out go the bright colours of summer, the yellows, light blues and pinks, while in comes the drab colours of autumn and winter. Everything is now dark and sombre burgundy, brown and dark blue. Why is it that clothes in darker colours feel more appropriate for the shorter days? How do we manage to convince ourselves that they are actually warmer?
Now my wardrobe is monotonal, I have to put the light on just to see what I have to put on. This presents another problem, as there are so few colours in my attire, putting them together is an art in itself. If you are not careful you end up marrying the same colour top as your trousers and it ends up looking like some sort of contrived suit. In this way, your choice of jacket determines the colour of your trousers, which determines the colour of your shirt etc. etc.
Dressing in the summer is much easier but, then again, perhaps I overthink these things.