There are no words... well there are but just derogatory ones

Seriously, who in their right mind would wear any of these modesty or shirt panels?!

I was browsing through the Betterware catalogue that came through our door, not as good as the Lakeland daydreams I have whilst looking through their catalogue but just as fun to imagine buying random items. Like the above... or not.

I can to a certain degree, imagine in the long dark tea-time of my soul, there may be a couple of poor deluded women that would buy the modesty panels. Maybe they work as a librarian or in the 1940s, where a modesty panel would be needed to ensure the sweater bunnies don't escape and scare the menfolk. No one wants to be all Blake Lively boob-tacular all the time. It may be nice to still have the option to wear your favourite low cut tops in a professional setting for example, without being able to keep pens in your cleavage.

But come on! What sane person thinks, "aha I think a shirt would look great under this jumper but it's too hot. What to do? I'll buy a FAKE shirt collar from a mail order catalogue and it will look ace. I'll be the best dressed woman in the office or in the street. Depending on the street, definitely in the top 3 of the most beautiful girls on the street."

Just reading the blurb beside the photo is suitable miserable, "Achieve the look of layered clothing without the discomfort and bulky effect." I really don't want to live in a world where clothing is solely judged on how comfortable it is, this may be one of my worst nightmares.

Theories I refuse to put into practice

This may sound like whining or an unnecessary attack of contrariness, but I really don't understand the various projects floating around at this time of year. You know the ones, "clear out everything you haven't worn in a year" or "only wear six carefully chosen pieces of clothing". Encouraging everyone to start anew on a clean sheet. Promising clarity of mind and improved fashion sense through editing your wardrobe and throwing out clothes. Or simply ruthlessly editing your everyday wardrobe to a capsule collection (also, words can't express how much I hate hate hate Gok Wan and the 'capsule wardrobe' he foists on poor unsuspecting middle aged women - but that's a whole other subject).

It may be New Year resolution time and the entire world is obsessed with frugalness, make doing and mending like billy-o, but honestly what sane person could survive on six (SIX!) items of clothing? That just belies the tempetuous and varied relationship to enjoy with your image and clothes in general. One day you want to be the sophisticated business woman, clad in a Chanel-like suit, silk shirt and pearls. The next its a rock chick outfit, complete with tons of black eyeliner and skin tight jeans. It's fun to treat your image like a pick and mix counter, milk buttons mixed in with pink prawns.

Despite the fact that my clothes are currently threatening to take over an entire room and edge me out like an unfriendly roommate, I just don't want to throw anything away. Sometimes clothes are meant to be kept, not to wear all the time but simply that the memory of the last time wearing it overrules the room it takes up in the wardrobe. All ready to be taken out and treated like a long-lost friend who you haven't seen for ages but swings into town to give you a good time.

Rx