Shop with mother
Two generations, one problem solved: this week, a 2020 take on power dressing
Charlie Gowanseglinton, 31
The phrase “power dressing” has never quite shed those late Eighties, early Nineties associations – it still conjures up Melanie Griffith’s shoulder pad and pointed collar makeover in
Working Girl. But the premise is a sound one: clothes can instill confidence, make us stand up straighter and feel bolder. All of us – not just the women smashing glass ceilings – need powerbringing pieces in our wardrobes: the dress you meet the bank manager in, workout kit that makes you feel brave enough to step into that exercise class for the first time, or the sartorial equivalent of a pep talk needed from a first-date outfit.
I don’t have separate wardrobes for on- and off-duty life, so I shop with versatility in mind: the piece that makes me feel powerful at work needs to have the same effect whatever the scenario. As a result, my power piece is a Jack of all trades, something that
I can pull from my wardrobe whenever I need a boost: the jumpsuit. The Telegraph’s HQ is a hodgepodge of dress codes: those covering the news, politics and business beats are usually found wearing two-piece suits – a tailored jumpsuit
Geri Gowans, 62
Ilove wearing trousers; they make me feel strong and slightly anarchic.
Probably because the trousers that my mother bought me were always part of a trouser suit, and would be stuffed in my bag at discos, because the jacket was enough. Probably because I could only buy men’s jeans in Brisbane, Australia, in the early Seventies, and the sales assistant was uncomfortable at my doing so – I boiled them to shrink and then sat in the bath in them every Saturday, letting them dry to my curves for the evening. Probably because the nuns who undertook my education thought women in trousers were loose, fast and unemployable. Whatever the reason, I always feel a little transgressive in a lovely pair of trousers. That’s an edge for me when I walk into a room to train large groups of education professionals, as I do most weeks. I used to feel that frisson – that thrill of being a little unpredictable – in a silk mini skirt or velvet hot pants. Now, at 62, everyone assumes I am the progenitor of pure wholesomeness, which is entirely understandable, and very dull. I feel confident when I express some vestige of the disquiet I used to cause. And so I like to work in very good trousers – Max Mara being my favourite cut – evoking perhaps my radical self in spite of all the signifiers that label me a harmless grandmama (minus the grandbabies). These gorgeous camel trousers feel soft – they are 100 per cent wool – and light. I love the tailoring: it’s a flattering cut with two back pockets. And you just might find a similar pair in the sale, which makes them even more attractive.