HOW TO DRESS LIKE A GROWN UP
Pick up a polo — the classic that’ll take years off you
WHILE it’s true that fashion is a fickle beast which flirts shamelessly with silliness — crazy colours, weird shapes, challenging lengths and culottes — it also circles back to its true loves, the faithful classics. And it’s hard to think of a more useful item than 2017’s surprising new hero piece: the polo neck.
It’s earned the loyalty of top designers by virtue of being so adaptable. Not only is it season-appropriate, but it’s a more effective anti-ager than the most expensive neck cream.
The garment’s first taste of iconic status was probably in the mid-20th century, when it was the uniform for hip intellectuals. But it quickly went mainstream, and in the Fifties Audrey Hepburn made it a gamine wardrobe staple.
True, it’s had its wilderness years. I spent the Eighties wearing an egg-yellow ‘skivvy’ (as we called them in Australia) with brown trousers for my school uniform. That’s enough to turn anyone off the look for life, but I got over it in just 20 years or so.
Now, all is well and truly forgiven, as the polo neck is back centre-stage. It’s largely thanks to the convergence of two major winter trends — the enduring ‘athleisure’ and the rekindled love affair with all things Eighties, especially Diana’s Sloane Ranger phase of chin-bothering pie-crust collars and chunky, cuddly knits.
But there is something instantly sophisticated about a polo neck which is probably why, in fashionable offices across London, it’s the new way to power dress.
The black version is currently the most essential piece of kit for Glamour’s fashion editors. In they troop wearing their uniform du jour — black polo, just-slouchy-enough jeans, a Crombie coat and an embellished loafer or white trainer.
PART sporty, part cool, not to mention sleek and slimming, the polo neck shows that you’re the sort of no-nonsense type who hasn’t spent valuable time over-thinking an ensemble.
You can get a hardworking staple for £35 from Hobbs and M&S has 27 varieties on the theme, but personally I’m a big fan of the men’s knitwear section of Uniqlo.
They’re a slightly looser cut than the women’s styles and come in several colours for £29.90 each (uniqlo.com).
My favourite thing about the 2017 take on the polo, however, is that we’re seeing its previously unexplored versatility. Designers such as Celine and Valentino popped tissue-thin versions under shirts and dresses, helpfully demonstrating that a polo can reinvent just about anything in your wardrobe.
Lightweight finds like the red, ribbed number from Zara, (£19.99, zara.com) or the lilac wide-ribbed version from Topshop (£10, topshop.com) are lovely statement pieces to wear on their own with skirts or trousers, but they‘ll also sit nicely under a slip dress.
And so the polo becomes a way to get more mileage out of a dress that would otherwise lay dormant in your closet for six months. That versatility also means the style works for more body shapes than in previous incarnations.
There are plenty more cuts and weights out there to explore beyond the traditional figure-hugging chunky rib.
The gentler fit of the fine-knit turtleneck from Essentiel Antwerp (£50, essentielantwerp.com) is a forgiving way to work the trend. If you do go for a looser fit, I’d recommend retaining some shape by tucking it into your skirt.
There is also the issue of just feeling a bit smothered by something hugging your neck too tightly. But the High Street has thought of that, too, thanks to H&M’s detachable collar version for £5.99.
Another new frontier is the polo neck as eveningwear. I love the royal blue and rather fancy version from Finery (£65, finerylondon.com). Add black trousers, statement earrings and you’re the interesting, understated one at the party, standing out in a sea of traditional frocks.
So, go forth and unleash your inner beatnik, or sex bomb, or any other polo neck guise you fancy. It really is the wardrobe chameleon that will see you through to spring.
My only word of caution: never slide one over your head while your hair is wet.
I’m not sure there’s a more deeply unpleasant feeling in the world.