In life, categorisation is a constant temptation. Perhaps it makes us feel secure, as though we have a full understanding of something (or someone). It’s probably why a lot of us are obsessed with astrology and finding our ‘alter ego’. For practical reasons, categorising clothes is particularly easy: bikinis and swimsuits are for summer; coats and jumpers are for winter – it simplifies everything. But, once in a while, you’ll encounter something that defies such seasonal simplification completely – like a checked dress.
Checked dresses, in our opinion, serve us as well in the colder months as they do in summer. There’s no point denying that either iteration offers something very different, however. Checked – probably gingham – dresses during summer conjure frolics in all forms. Maybe you wore one to pose in a lavender field, for example. Or maybe one was stuffed into your cabin baggage when you – somehow – managed to go on a foreign holiday.
Either way, it might have been the only summer dress that mattered – one that was as familiar as it was fun, with a definite chance of being reinstated next year. But then September set in, and it was time for it to be replaced – possibly with something plaid. This new dress had cosiness at is core. In an ideal world – free from vague restrictions on what we can and cannot do and who with – it would be worn on a staycation to the Isle of Skye. Failing that, a dilapidated pub sofa would have to do (providing a mulled something was also included in the scenario). Obviously, unlike summer, this is no season for wearing a dress alone. You pair this one with either a camel coat or trench coat, whatever the result of you re-boot was, and a wool scarf – all is well with the world.