Wednesday, March 26, 2014

rebel skivvy.......

Will this nineties revival ever end? Will I ever stop pontificating on the value of specific sartorial items that saw their heyday only a few short years ago? Are continuous rhetorical questions a real form of writing? Don’t answer that last one - or the first two either.

I said I was sick of trends, and I’ve yet to get back on the trend-wagon, despite my own predictions of imminent failure. But I do find myself with a real appreciation for skivvies. Something which only manifested itself in the last twenty four hours, after spying a rack of them in the school uniform section of a department store. I will confess to searching for the largest children's size in black, which I would have willingly worn without a hint of irony. But alas, I came up skivvy-less. 

So what gives? What’s behind the desire to don a garment that has a past dating back to the 15th century, a long list of famous champions (Steve Jobs anyone?) and a secret rebellious nature? Is it the simple design? The hint of masculinity - see my menswear obsession - that draws me in? Or is it that they are inherently comfortable and easy to wear? 

Or is it, in fact, the hidden wild streak that has me hooked? Dubbed the anti-tie, the skivvy became almost a symbol for the sartorially inclined gentleman who recoiled at the notion of formal attire and the constricting neck wear that came with it. The skivvy was a symbol of rebellion, of a fight against the system. And when feminists started rocking the skivvy, it found itself in the curious section of unisex clothing, alongside socks and scarves and boiler suits. 

I’d like to think the rebel in me recognises its equal in the skivvy and that’s why I’m drawn in. But to be honest, the real reason is more likely to be that with the end of March fast approaching and grey skies becoming much more frequent, it’s evident that winter is but a hop and a skip away. And I’m sure the only real way for me to deal with the rain and fog and icy cold winds that are on their way, is to wrap myself in skivvies. 

Plus, 15th century - man that’s some real vintage there.

kb xx