Around this time, spring, in 2015, I wrote a column I titled “Less is More”. In it I recorded the zeitgeist of the season — fashions changed so frequently back then, my column reflected the spirit of the age. I am being only a little facetious.
In the future, there will be More (Before2020), 2020, and Less (After2020).
I think, 2020 will become the term used to encapsulate the reduction of everything experienced during the period of pandemic.
In the post-2020 “less” phase, the money gurus predict a contracted economy while the trend oracles inform us that our physical worlds will constrict — bricks-and-mortar workspace options have already changed.
In 2015, I discussed a new fashion trend that was being hailed as a breakthrough: wear the same outfit to work every day; it takes away stress and frees you up to use your decision-making on things that count.
Fortuitous forward thinking? Clairvoyant foresight? I wondered out loud, as I re-read my words from five years (half a decade) ago, whether any of us could have imagined how true this would be. We are, most of us, wearing the same outfit for work and recreation and play. We now live in Zoom fashion mode — throw a shawl over your pyjama top; pull a sweater over your ripped T-shirt night-shirt.
I was telling a friend how I was going to have to up my fashion game now that spring has arrived with the jasmine that scents Johannesburg. New pyjamas? she asked. Yes, I said, cotton.
This started a conversation on laundry and I confessed that I have done five loads of formal going-out clothes since March 27. Who needs a fresh outfit every time you leave the house for 40 minutes, maybe an hour. Certainly no more than two. You throw on the same pair of trousers you wore last week, and the week before; put a jacket over your pyjama top; stick your greasy head in a beanie or under a scarf (who’s going to recognise you behind your mask?); and head for the shops to replenish junk food.
Of course, my washing machine goes a few times a week filled with sheets and towels and my outdoor walking clothes. And pyjamas. Lots of pyjamas.
In my column from that more-era, I conclude that when they discuss the concept of wearing the same outfit to work, or school, everyday to reduce stress, the trend pundits are really referring to a uniform.
I never knew that a person could not have too many pairs of slippers. Or thermal socks. In fact, any socks that can be worn under thermal socks, that are then stuck into expanding cloth/leather/velour slippers, will do
The uniform has been around since men first organised themselves into civic society. The intention behind everyone wearing the same clothing has always been to strip us of our singular identity, to make us all equal. Now we all are though, for the most part, nobody can see how equal we are inside our coronavirus-free zones.
When the world goes into a pause, the algorithms change. My Facebook page no longer shows me white cotton shirts, summer frocks or elegant, front-button opening black pants. These days, adverts for velour tracksuits, elastic- waisted stretchy pants and matching oversized jumpers, sweatshirts or hoodies are what appear on my feed.
(Remember all that junk food that provided comfort in the early days of lockdown? It’s all sitting in a tyre around my middle, making elastic waistbands a necessity rather than a comfortable stay-at-home alternative.)
Slippers. I never knew that a person could not have too many pairs of slippers. Or thermal socks. In fact, any socks that can be worn under thermal socks, that are then stuck into expanding cloth/leather/velour slippers, will do.
Who knew that we’d go feral when the possibility of venturing out into the world was taken away from us.
Many of us high-riskers with compromised immune systems have spent the past five months mostly indoors. Other than quick food foraging trips, and even more occasional grocery shopping expeditions, we have lived within the walls of our abodes.
During winter, cocooning has seemed less like a hardship; hot-water bottles, electric blankets and heaters have kept the freeze at bay. Now that spring is around the corner, and the world is warming up a little, it feels like our country is emerging from a long, Snow White-like slumber, shaking the sleep out of our eyes as we revisit our abandoned closets.
For so long, fashion has been about the freedom of choice — World War 1, the suffragette movement and Coco Chanel freed us from those uncomfortable garments (as worn by women in Downtown Abbey). The 1960s gave us all the freedom to discard convention, throw away the formality of the 1950s and before, abandon the donning of hats and gloves, grow your hair, wear a fringe and wide, bell-bottomed trousers. Be free, the 1960s said.
In my 2015 column, I observed that having too much choice seems to be as stressful as having no choice at all. The corollary of that must then be that limiting ones wardrobe choices to, well, a uniform, has the potential of reducing anxiety.
I am revising that view. Freedom in the time of pandemic has taken on a new meaning.
For most of this year our freedoms have been drastically curtailed and it has created, rather than relieved, anxiety and despair. Now freedom means being able to move about freely — something we cannot do yet, but look forward to with unseemly excitement.
Still, it is hopeful to note that our infection numbers are coming down, and that the recovery rate is now at a very healthy 75%. I like those odds.
Soon, it will be time to pack away the comfy, schlumpy rags we’ve been trapped in for months and months, dust off those outdoor clothes and... put on a bit of lipstick?
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