A GREAT suit has the power to change your whole demeanour.
George Clooney isn’t half as attractive once you take him out of his. And I defy anyone to slouch while wearing one.
I strongly doubt 1980s cut-throat corporate culture would have existed had the razor sharp lapel or puffed up shoulder pad not been invented. I blame power dressing for that decade’s excessive greed.
But the suit isn’t something I slip into often. So last week when Slaters called asking me to model some of their suits – and yes, I use the term “model” loosely – for a woman and business article, I thought it would be a great excuse to wear one.
We went for classic black with a crisp white shirt, accessorising with a chiffon scarf and oversized clutch to take the masculine edge off.
When I peeked at my reflection in the mirror I almost fell over, as there was a grown-up with my face staring back. I could feel the power radiate off the fabric. I felt compelled to make a conference call!
When it was all over and I put my normal clothes back on I could see why so many woman get addicted to their suits. It’s like slipping on an alter ego, in fact it’s playing dress-up adult style.