A personal guide to dressing for winter indoors
Words: Akim Jardine | Illustration: Keshia Chapman
“Isolating during a global pandemic has for certain been life-altering for most of us...” starting to sound tired? Bear with us as we forge onward with some more lockdown content made to be relatable. We joke. But learning who you are when you’re in one place, likely by yourself, for a long time is a journey of intimate self-discovery. It comes to a head every time you quickly avert your eyes from a tower of dishes sculpturally balanced and growing over just three hours (or was it three days?). Or when you arrive to an unmade bed every night with no excuse for why it hasn’t been whipped into a perfectly tucked and straightened cloud, à la five-star hotel. That’s if you even left bed in the first place. By now, we’ve all found some kind of groove to fall into. You may have a watertight schedule of coping mechanisms that includes pressing tomorrow’s trousers at sunset. If you’re anything like this writer, by sunset you’re already back in your unmade bed. What to do with all this newfound knowledge about yourself? Put it to work in a quiz created to help you find the perfect pieces for your winter wardrobe, suited to the way you live in lockdown. You thought it’d be deeper than that, didn’t you?
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You’re all about getting out. Usually you’d be up at 4am, thermal flask and Sealand backpack in tow, to hit your regular hiking trail before it gets overrun with layman leisure-walkers. But that’s just a normal weekday before work. On the weekend, your home is the great outdoors and your house is for sleeping in. So adjusting to three hours of government-regulated exercise, shared with, well, everyone else behind their mask (and their dog) has been hard on you. But dressing for an arctic exploration is a strategic choice, because who knows what adventure awaits on your next trip to the grocery store. Until then you’ll be safely wrapped up in insulating jackets and hard-wearing textiles... waiting, wanting, nay, yearning to run out of milk.
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By now you’re probably getting a steady stream of DMs begging you to ease up on sharing every single workout challenge you can lay your muscular hands on. Don’t say you heard it here, but if you don’t keep making at least one pull-up challenge video every darn day, people will be starved for proof that you’re maintaining your fitness goals, which is obviously top of mind for you. Armed with some tights, moisture-wicking tops, a skipping rope and, honestly, any household item that weighs 2kg or more, you’re set to emerge from lockdown tight and toned. Hey, have you tried running a 5k marathon in your home? Go ahead. Your family and neighbours will be so enthused.
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“Wash your hands, don’t touch me please. Please don’t hug me.” London-based rapper Psychs recommends making a handshake with your feet as a COVID-19–proof alternative to bodily contact. Eh, not when your feet are decked out in the best kicks money can buy. You’re no stranger to an exchange, but trading in dirt, germs and droplets? No deal, sir. Your collection is your most prized possession and you’d rather have them safe and clean than risk contamination just to be seen. But if a hypebeast wears a fresh sneaker and there’s no one around to see it, is he even a hypebeast? We’re not sure, but we do know that it won’t change the fact that you’re cocooning in branded streetwear nonetheless.
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Loungewear? Unless it’s tailored and cropped at the ankle, it’s not happening. You’re relentlessly devoted to your aesthetic and no pandemic will change that. The fashion must go on. You’re obsessed with using this time to reorganise your wardrobe and clear out anything that provokes your allergy to maximalism out of your wardrobe, while perfecting your already brimming collection of white tees. But what is perfect? And what now about that oversized off-white tee on Superbalist? Is pure white old-fashioned suddenly? That fervid focus is what keeps your look in check, your blacks meticulously matched to one another and your beanie perfectly rolled every time. We know you carefully colour code your wardrobe of premium basics around your masks, too. Maybe that yellow cableknit jumper will pair well with… wait, was that an allergic sneeze?
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What’s more punk than maybe or maybe not showering when you wake up? Your existence under lockdown is a fine balance of being totally inspired, but not motivated enough to do anything with all that verve. You juggle between comfy loungewear and pyjamas while downloading ebooks you’ll never read, scribbling down random ideas for a Pulitzer-worthy opinion piece that you won't write later (but probably will tweet as a thread *collective sigh*) and sipping on countless cups of overpriced coffee between Zoom calls for your job that “really doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of work I’m putting in, mom”. We get it. You’re a complicated person, so there’s really no reason to bother yourself with what to wear among all of that. Our advice?
It’s all about the simple things, right? Now go clean yourself with simple water and simple soap, you detty pig.
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Casualwear is the uniform of the unproductive. Could you imagine wearing a T-shirt and sweats at your desk every day? What is this, WFH day at a startup? *scoffs*. No, no. Your uniform is a formula set in stone… stone-coloured chinos, that is. It’s exactly what it would be if you were going into the office, because you’re a creature of habit and a lover of structure. Besides, there’s nothing as comforting as a shirt to make you feel like this is all just a bad fever dream from which you’ll soon wake up, with pointy formals to keep you climbing up the corporate ladder. Ok, who are we kidding. You’re probably wearing slippers, but nobody will know over video call. “Business as usual over here, boss!” We don’t blame you for carrying on the only way you know how. Living off-book can be scary, like when you take your lunch break an hour earlier than office-permitted, because no one is there to know, but you know. Or when you catch yourself daydreaming outside of your designated five-minute bathroom break at 10am about when you’ll get to wear a tie again. It’s not all perpetual doom and corporate gloom, though. You still steam and hang out your polo shirt every Thursday night in preparation for Casual Friday.