NEWSPAPERS are like junk shops. It is amongst the rubbish that you find a jewel and there it was this morning. Right alongside an article revealing that sexual desire still matters for over-60s there was a report on a survey carried out by Case Station, eminent suppliers of mobile phone cases and now, apparently, diversifying into opinion polling. It seems that the survey dealt with the effect that more colourful clothing had on the career of the wearer and the results were electric. One in five 18 to 34-year-olds credit a promotion to bright or cheerful clothing. The same proportion of their seniors believe they have received a pay rise for the same reason. A quarter of workers believe their fashionable clothes have landed them a job.
That explains a lot of things. Pocket handkerchiefs, for example. I had always wondered why men of a certain sort put elaborately arranged coloured silk handkerchiefs in their breast pockets. They were merely concerned to add that dash of colour essential to the successful businessman.
Worse still, I have done something of the same myself. Years ago I was given "my colours" as a Christmas present. That involved going to see a consultant, a woman who threw various coloured scarves over my shoulder to work out whether I was "summer", "autumn", "winter" or "spring", these being the four types of complexion for colour purposes. As I was "winter", she suggested various shades of blue, green and red and that I should wear a silver watch rather than a gold one. The odd thing about it was that she was completely right. Wearing "winter" colours I looked positive, confident and healthy. Put on autumn garb and my complexion assumed a sallow hue, worthy of a malignant clerk in a Victorian novel.
Equipped with a little booklet of suitable colours, I went down to Jermyn St and spent a happy hour in the sales. The shirts I bought were much brighter than those I would have bought previously and, if I had left it at that, I am sure that I would have received the promotion and pay rises suggested by Case Station.
Well then, shirts being fixed, what was left? Socks? A quick look in the colour booklet. Dark green perhaps. Shoes? A blue suede which I had to source at a theatrical outfitter. That only left the suit itself. I had always been told that, for an office worker, this should be dark grey or dark blue, but that was old hat now. I looked at my colour chart to see what I had missed out and the answer was dark red. It is surprisingly hard to buy a dark red suit in Savile row, so I would have to make do with a red and cream check. Then, clutching my bags, I set off home. How I would stun them in the office next morning!
