What is the best attire to adopt in these straitened times - drab clothing or feckless ermine gowns,? writes Orna Mulcahy
ASHEN IS the new complexion. The sleek, pampered good looks of the boom are collapsing as business people and politicians are starting to look old enough to actually remember the Great Depression.
Carefully coiffed hair is just a memory, if the front benches of the Dáil are anything to go by. Clearly the women have been frightened off having blow-dries after the Cocoa Beach fiasco - but still, a hairbrush wouldn't go amiss. Mind you, even the humble hairbrush has come under scrutiny in Chicago, where the magnificently quiffed Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich is said to be so involved with his Paul Mitchell brush, called "The Football" for some reason, that staff who can't produce it at all times presumably have it thrown at them later.
Meanwhile, in business circles, the perma-tan - as sported by the likes of Breifne O'Brien - is seriously out of fashion, even if it was earned down in Cape Town helping Niall Mellon.
No, the fashionable look for now is harried and harassed, pasty and puffy like the Taoiseach, or even fresh from the tomb like Brian Lenihan. Presumably, dealing with the banks is taking a toll on his toilette, but maybe too it's considered smart to look oh so serious and sober-suited. It's no time for witty ties as the nation teeters on the brink. Or even witty conversation. Relaxed, charming and debonair, you might come across as a con man. Unusually high spirits could be a sign you're on medication.
Look at the business pages. Michael O'Leary, who has plenty of reasons to be optimistic, for instance, appears fashionably haggard; assorted bankers seem shrunken and grey as they scuttle into talks they hope will save their vast pay packets and bonuses. Even Colin Farrell is receding. But that's a recession for you - very ageing.
Sunken, tired eyes and lank hair that's been raked through during up-all-night meetings are badges of honour. If the hair is coming out in clumps, what of it? Join the gang of people who can't sleep at night they are so worried about losing their job, their business or their home. One wonders if there will be a bed to be had in John of Gods this Christmas.
Mary Harney is about to make massive cuts in the health service but she has upped the budget for mental health, recognising the strain and stress that people are under. Here's a thing: she might be able to save a little on sexually-transmitted disease care. According to one doctor in an STD clinic in Dublin city centre, patients have dropped off at an alarming rate. "People are going out less and having less dodgy encounters," he says.
Or maybe it is just that they are feeling too dowdy and demoralised to flirt?
Clearly beauticians are suffering, if the flurry of texts I get daily is anything to go by. Free fake tan with facial! Complimentary manicure with every pedicure! Twenty per cent off holistic hot stones! It's a sign that daily regimes are slipping across the nation as we revert to type after a decade of pampering in million-euro spas. Viking blondes are morphing into dumpy brunettes with the strain of keeping up appearances.
The mood is infectious - or at least I'm using that as an excuse for wearing my old black skirt to work day in, day out. I should be wearing high heels but somehow cannot be bothered. Instead, I've resorted to the suburban mummy shoe, the clumpy Stefan Kelian knock-off platforms that look cute in size three but monstrous and remedial in size six. Normally, one wouldn't be caught dead wearing these to the office but, as the urge to buy brand new heels diminishes, these shoes feel right. They are safe, solid and comfortable; they are dependable and hard-working. Maybe I'm trying to send a message to my employers.
Additionally, they never need reheeling and, God knows, if it comes to throwing them, they could inflict serious damage.
A certain unkemptness is allowed, as perfection gives way to a this-is-as-good-as-I-can-look-under-the-circumstances way of thinking. It's quite liberating, for now. Of course, there's a whole school of thought that says you should dress up in a recession, that by looking good you'll radiate positivity and cheer everyone else up at the same time.
I have one friend who has managed to pull this one off. While flush a few years ago, she bought a coat of such dazzling cut and such dense cashmere that it will look good for ever. The stitching is a work of art, the buttons are jewellery in their own right. It flows in and out in all the right places. She can wear it over her pyjamas on the school run and still look wonderful. As an investment, it has beaten just about anything you could buy on the Irish Stock Exchange. We could all buy something similar at a heavy discount after Christmas. As they're saying in New York, 60 per cent off is the new black.