Where is the the limit between comfort and Dagginess?
‘Dagginess’ derives from the Australian and Kiwi word, ‘Daggy’ , meaning to be ‘untidy or unkempt; often messy or disheveled: ‘He turned up wearing a daggy tracksuit’ ”
The definition of ‘comfort’ is one that varies from person to person. Being relaxed and comfortable in the attire chosen for a days work/shopping/dining can be seen as a frontrunner in making the decision to wear the 5” Tony Bianco nude pumps or, alternatively, wearing the $40 knock-off Birkensocks purchased from Lipstick Shoes. When people have asked me (I have no idea why, I am no expert) “What is your top tip for being stylish?” my immediate reply is “be comfortable”. There is nothing worse than wearing high waisted jeans that are just that little bit too tight out for dinner or wearing a singlet a little too low-cut for a jog along the Torrens. But where is the limit between being comfortable and looking overly daggy and dishevelled?
While often used to describe the state of one’s hair on a windswept day, dishevelled can be used almost synonymously in regards to the context that daggy is being mentioned in this post. When lounging at home, at a close friends house or on holiday in a hotel, being overly comfortable and unconcerned about your attire is perfectly normal and a well accepted fact that we can all admit to. Except, maybe Anna Wintour or the Duchess of Cambridge are immune to this, I cannot imagine either one wearing black track pants and an oversized grey sweatshirt. As each of us step outside our front door, where does the limit end of this excessive comfort? Not unlike Marshall Eriksen’s ‘underpants radius’ in How I Met Your Mother, the limit of ‘comfort’ and ‘dagginess’ is one that can often be mistaken for the other. The limit is there, but how is it defined? We know not to wear Ugg Boots further than the front letterbox (or I SHOULD HOPE SO), but where does the limit on wearing your boyfriends Football Shorts lie?
Earlier this week I was lunching in Norwood and as I usually do I was looking at what other people were wearing. It is a well known fact that most of my inspiration for my wardrobe comes from what I see on the street rather that on the runways of Paris and Milan. Yes, it would one day be nice to own a Valentino frock but that day has not arrived yet, I make do with what I can. A woman was waiting at the lights to cross the road toward Nordburger and Dillons Bookshop, and I can express with perfect honesty that she was the inspiration for this post. She was clad in an oversized hot pink Puma Jumper, dirty purple-and-white Adidas Trainers and ill fitting grey yoga pants. Her hair tousled up in a bad messy top not, the only thing saving her outfit were the Oroton sunglasses shielding her eyes from the glare of the cloud cover.
I stood there, pondering for what felt like an eternity at a pedestrian crossing- that just would not change- contemplating whether this was comfort or dishevelment. I concluded that it was in-fact the latter and that this look should well and truly have been left on the sofa at 10:30PM while watching Jimmy Fallon, minus the trainers and the sunglasses. Having seen all realms of Adelaide, from the South all the way North to the country town of Kadina, this is commonplace and not isolated to one woman. For all I am aware of, she could be one of the most stylish women in the state but on that day, she wasn’t even on the scale. Fashion and style are not everyones piece of cake, I recognise and realise this. I realise that mortgages, car loans, petrol and day-to-day expenses take hierarchy with individuals but a solid investment for everyones wardrobe, no matter job, wealth-status or care of current fashion trends, should be the Blue Denim Jeans, a crisp White Shirt and the Black Blazer. Each item are highly versatile, timelessly elegant and COMFORTABLE. After all, that is my number one rule, but I suppose I should add an asterisk now.
Not everyone is going to look like a Kardashian when they’re produce shopping and in no way do I recommend this. Trying to reach the bottom shelf in a skin tight nude coloured pencil skirt paired with a $3,000 fur coat will not be fun for anyone. But after the incident at the Norwood crossing, the the limit between comfort and dagginess is clearer than ever. And trust me, the limit does exist, Cady Heron! Leave the grey yoga pants to the couch or the yoga class, but get them off ASAP!