7 lies we tell ourselves about how we look

Someone famously remarked that there were only seven plots in the world. They said it with such authority, I’m thinking either Shakespeare or Lynda La Plante. Once you begin seriously researching this (ie, googling Only Seven Plots), you discover equally authoritative claims about there being only 36 plots, 20 plots and 3 plots. But after intensive soul-searching and numerous peeks into my own wardrobe, I can confidently announce that there really are seven lies we tell ourselves and others when it comes to our appearance. As we celebrate the new year, it seems timely to confront them.

1. I can always get it altered. Indeed you can and probably should. If you lived in Paris and worked for Carine Roitfeld, you would get everything altered, even those items most mortals thought were just fine as they are. But assuming you’re not reading this on the Eurostar, accessing a creative, technically brilliant alterations service can be a life’s work. I bought a jacket in New York that was at least two sizes too big. I committed this folly because it was the last one in the country and I got overexcited. Five London tailors later (much sucking of teeth, deep intakes of breath, shaking of heads), I took it to Designer Alterations in Battersea (designeralterations.com), where I should have gone in the first place but I’m not very good south of the river. They saw, they nodded, they conquered. But for serious adjustments, you can be looking at £100. Factor that in. Then invest in sat-nav.

2. I’ve been taking kelp. You may well have, but you’ve also secretly had hair extensions put in, which is why you now have the glossy, thick mane of a 16-year-old.

3. It’s an investment. Not in the way that buying shares in LVMH gold ingots or an Isa is an investment, it isn’t. Clothes, accessories (with the possible exception of Hermès Kellys and Birkins) and jewellery depreciate the minute you carry them out of the store. Buy it to wear, to love, to sniff (whatever turns you on). But never buy thinking you can make a quick, or even slow, buck out of it.

4. I’ve been on holiday. (To Harley Street. Where the Botox is on tap and the lasers shine brightly.)

5. I’ll lose the weight. You probably won’t. Remember, it’s even harder to find someone to let garments out than take them in, especially when they need letting out by three inches and there is only an inch of spare fabric.

6. I’ve had it ages. Six months is a long time in fashion.

7. I’m so over trends. How marvellous for you. But to paraphrase Miranda Priestly, that blue jumper you bought as an anti-fashion statement? It’s blue because two seasons ago a bunch of designers decreed blue was in. There is no escape, in other words. Best to interpret trends intelligently, from the lofty planes of knowledge. Ironically, Meryl Streep helped pen that speech as a personal diatribe against the fashion system. That’s what happens when you underestimate the nature of the beast.

Sunny week at work :)

How to pick a good party frock

Don't be blinded by the oversized sequins. Here are the three guidelines to help you find the perfect dress

Getting dressed is not, to be honest, something at which I excel. Every new dawn brings with it a mild sensation of panic, as I take in the inclemency of the weather and the unsuitability of my wardrobe, and retreat to the unflattering safety of head-to-toe black and a raincoat. When I get a job that requires me to wear Agent Provocateur underwear, floor-length cream coats and ruinously expensive high heels, all will be well. Until then – and as I’m a bit old to be a hooker, I’m not holding my breath – I have problems.

This is not a new development, which is why today is the day when I sally forth to make exceptionally unwise sales purchases, and perpetuate the calamitous cycle. This year, like many people, my plan is to buy something for New Year’s Eve. Now, if my New Year’s Eve were going to be that of my dreams – one where, by some happy twist of fate, I find myself kissing Jon Bon Jovi on the stroke of midnight – then the outfit detailed above would be just the ticket.
Sadly, even in the parallel universe that I inhabit, this seems unlikely. So I need a dress. I have set myself some rules, which I humbly share in the hope they may help. Rules which, by the time you read this, I will be well on the way to flouting, but what can I say? My intentions were pure.

First, go for a more glamorous version of something you usually look good in. New Year’s Eve parties are not the place to experiment with a whole new look. Come to think of it, no public event is ever the place to experiment with a whole new look – you should be doing that in the fitting room, before you even get your credit card out, let alone before you allow anyone else to see your interesting take on leggings and Manolos. If you don’t normally feel comfortable in 4in heels with your boobs out, the fact it’s December 31 won’t alter that.

Second, don’t be seduced by novelty: that floor-length magenta show-stopper may look stunning, but it is in the sales precisely because thousands of other woman realised they’d look awful in it. We must heed that wisdom.

Third, don’t forget accessories. Even the most fabulous, bright blue Balmain, knocked down to a bargain £25, say, is absolutely no use if you haven’t already got – or aren’t prepared to buy – the perfect shoes and bag to wear with it. Meanwhile, I myself fully expect that, by day’s end, I will be the proud owner of a show-stoppingly glamorous, floor-length magenta number which will be totally unsuitable for my New Year’s Eve plans. Unless Jon calls me, in which case I’m sorted.

Try Chic Separates

"The way today's working woman dresses is much more relaxed," says Ann Taylor fashion director Kristin Rawson, who stresses that separates are perfectly acceptable—and often more versatile than a suit—for an interview. Choose classic shapes like a pencil skirt and a cardigan or blazer, and add interest to the look with a leather belt, statement necklace or printed blouse.

Customizing the bekini

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