The motivation for this week-long experiment began with my girlfriend telling me I take my intentionally-small wardrobe too seriously. While watching Sherlock reruns one lazy Sunday in February she remarked, “You know, you literally dress like tech bro Benedict Cumberbatch anyway. Might as well lean into it.” She had a point.
Most days I rock some iteration of dark wash jeans, button down, and plain white trainers – not too dissimilar from the contemporary Sherlock incarnation’s uniform. After giving it some more thought I realised that most British television has developed extremely distinct aesthetics; to the point where I’d recognise a still from almost any British show based solely on someone’s outfit. Also, I’m admittedly kinda obsessive about optimising everything I can (occupational hazard of being a software engineer) so I started wondering what would happen if I reverse engineered some of these looks with a combination of things from my absurdly-curated closet, supplemented by some tactical additions that I didn’t feel would completely betray my core style principles.
Yeah, famous internet headline right there. The plan was to dedicate each day of the week to a quintessentially British TV show, forcing myself to dress accordingly.
Two rules: each outfit had to be office (and life-) appropriate enough that I wouldn’t stick out too much; and I would document the reactions of others based on how I was dressed.
Kinkier details for science, sure, but I work at a tech company and my coworkers think I have a shirt problem already, might as well encourage the stigma. Here’s what happened. Day 1: Bridgerton immediately shattered rule #1 because surprise!
Apparently I own no clothing that could even remotely pass for Regency-inspired? Had to make a special trip to the vintage shop tucked away in the Mission and nab myself a legit looking brocade waistcoat. Paired it with my highest-waisted black trousers (thank GOD for wide-legged 90s makes bouncing back) and a crisp white oxford I’d bought to wear to a wedding last year but haven’t touched since because of the giant collar.
Needless to say, it was a lot. And not at all what my girlfriend was expecting when she asked me what I was wearing. “You basically look like you jumped out of a Jane Austen fever dream,” she laughed when I slid into Slack to show her my outfit of the day. She wasn’t wrong.
But when I showed up to the office that day something shifted. My stride was broader, my movements more purposeful. I found myself throwing my hands expressively during conversations (I swear that wasn’t new) and choosing stronger words for my Slack messages.
Clothes affect how we behave, sure, but I’ve never actually experienced it first hand. If that isn’t some gemstone-version of microkinefficency I don’t know what is. So yeah, the reactions were about what I expected.
Same tacit dismissal from my manager when he passed by my desk (“Oh, you doing another one of those experiments?” he chuckled). The QA team probably assumed I lost a bet. Only Sarah from design actually cared.
She stopped by my desk to compliment the waistcoat and ask where I got it. Victory is mine. Plus, brocade matches well with dark jeans if I ever need to get fancy for evening drinks.
I’m definitely keeping the waistcoat. Day 2: Top Boy In stark contrast to Bridgerton, my go-to uniform of dark-coloured basics and simple trainers is basically ripped straight from today’s roadman aesthetic. Looked to my college buddy Marcus for inspiration here, he normally dresses like this and has great taste at streetwear.
Had to supplement with a borrowed Nike Tech Fleece tracksuit (yum), classic Air Max 95s I caved and purchased online, and a black puff coat I swore I’d never spend this much money on clothing at one time. “Literally looks like you’re wearing aSOFTWARE ENGINEER’s skin suit,” Marcus remarked when we FaceTimed to confirm my ensemble. “Which you kinda are! But not because of the clothes, man. Because you’re wearing them like they’re covered in contagion sprays.” Damn those reflexes.
I’ve been intentionally conditioned over the last four years to purchase less clothing of higher-quality that works with everything else I own. Going full statement trainers and track jacket suddenly felt… wrong? Like I was wearing somebody else’s skin suit.
It took a few hours of work-induced forgetfulness to shake the feeling, but wow did that track suit live up to the hype. Comfortable doesn’t even begin to describe how easily I floated through my twelve hour day. Why didn’t I buy this for every week-long hackathon?
Guys. So comfortable. My moment of truth came when it was my turn to present sprint updates during our daily standup.
I legitimately got some strange looks from the product team as I stood there draped in dad jeans and air Jordans. The developers, on the other hand, laughed. One of the backend devs even commented I looked “significantly less threatening than normal, which is weird for you.” Day 3: Doctor Who So it turns out my regular wardrobe is actually pretty CLOSE to the Doctor’s style, just pushed to logical extremes.
Big lol quoi shoulder corduroy blazer I found at a thrift store two years ago and never wore because of the colour (burnt orange), wide-legged wool trousers, burgundy Doc Martins I’ll probably wear once and regret, and the pièce de résistance: some outrageously stripey scarf I bought while browsing Boutique Battersea and cried into after spending a grand on business clothes I didn’t need. “This isn’t even you dressing up, it’s you but on steroids.” Said nobody ever. My girlfriend summarised the Doctor’s entire style aesthetic better than I can: “It’s like your standard queer professor but from the 1700s who shops at vintage clothing stores and doesn’t own a mirror.” Ugh, she’s right. But beyond just feeling like myself with extra sass, I had a client meeting that morning with the folks who make that new fintech app I can’t stop using.
Deadlines had us meeting at their office in Soma so I could actually experience their product up close and personal. Walking into that startup of bright-eyed Millennial developers wearing what one of them texted me was “professor cosplay” was wild. Objectively, I felt like I owned the room.
Not sure if it was my outfit or the flattery but I also got way more eye-contact and participation during that meeting than I had in the last month put together. Who knows. Maybe doctors really can regenerate people’s work ethic.
Btw the scarf was wildly impractical for SF weather but I ran with it. Got THREE people to stop me in the halls to ask where I got it. Score.
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Day 4: Peaky Blinders Another day, another improperly constructed masculine archetype disseminated to impressionable young males across the entire country by way of public television. Peaky Blinders single-handedly convinced every man alive that they too could rock a fitted three-piece suit andyyyy not look stupid. Well buddy, let me tell you when that tomboy spirit guns it for authentic tailored clothing.
I opted for my trust charcoal wool suit (only three-piece suit I own, don’t judge), bought a collarless white shirt because why the hell not, and finally worked up the courage to bust out the flat cap I’d purchased on holiday to Birmingham last summer. Overall look was HARD_LINES. Topick.com put it best with their street style writeup on Thomas Shelby: “Matched to perfection, Cheadle’s suit has sharp shoulders and strong silhouettes that feel worlds away from the standard Everyday Bones fare.” Worlds away from my typical soft minimalist gear, indeed.
Stepped into the office that Thursday morning and could literally feel my team reacting to me differently. Hell, my dog tried to eat my pocket square. Strangers gave me more space on BART.
I’ve been conditioned to subscribe to this very particular, tailored masculine ideal for so long that breaking character for a day threw me off in the best way. Went back-to-back client meetings all day which was perfect. Couldn’t tell you how many people assumed I could “take care of” any problem that came up through…creative means. (IT’S TRUE, INTERNET.
LEGAL DEPARTMENT IF YOU’RE SEEING THIS. )Mental. Aside from that, nothing noteworthy. Had a straight man at my usual cafe thank me profusely for ‘making his day’ when I handed him my coffee to pick up the disposable cup I’d left on the table.
Was referred to as “sir” by my barista like a total bajillion times. Guys let me tell you about how clothes send social signals. We learn these things in Kindergarten and yet somehow forgot by the time we graduate college.
Day 5: Great British Bake Off Am I laughing at you? Or am I crying for you GBBO? If you didn’t think dumping bleach on Rupert Pike from Made in Chelsea was harsh, you have not spent enough time watching Great British Bake Off.
Seriously y’all picked the cringe for me. But hear me out. The way I see it, every single cast member on that show could walk into my office dressed like me and immediately upstage everyone.
Their entire schtick is rooted in how aggressively NORMAL they dress. How they all but defy standard television aesthetics by presenting themselves as literally the least stylish group of people to ever collectively bake things. After binge watching far too many hours of GBBO for… reasons.
I settled on the essentials: bright knit jumper with elbow patches (bonus points if the elbows are ripped, we’re going for dad energy here), comfortable-ish trousers, and your unparalleled devotion to kitchenware. Brown zip-up jumper with elbow patches my mum gifted me two holidays ago (the sort of jumper that wouldn’t fly if you were under 50 wearing it yourself, WHICH IS WHY IT WAS PERFECT), distressed jeans I’ve had since middle school, and the canvas trainers I only wear on Saturdays when I run errands. “I see you’re about to lecture me on your sourdough starter.” Said the receptionist as I swung by to collect my visitor’s badge. And see, that was my jam for the day.
Rolling my sleeves up to whip everyone I encountered into endless questions about their palettes. Bringing in store bought biscuits but putting them in a jumper-weather approved tupperware. Calling every texture “DELICIOUS.” By lunchtime I had fully transformed into dad.exe with how hard I was selling it.
Oh GBBO, what would I do without you? Lessons learned? I learned a lot, actually.
Some of it surprised me: Clothes have WAY more subtle psychological effect than I account for, even as someone who blogs about minimalist wardrobes and conscientious dressing. From my mood to my posture to actual interactions with strangers I went about my day differently dressed as each iteration of “Daniel.” Got more eye-contact on Peaky day. Had strangers initiate conversations with me at cafes while rocking Great British Bake Off dad jumpers.
Entire suits made me feel powerful enough that dudes on BART gave me more space. Context matters more than anything else. Dress weird in the wrong settings and people will question your mental health.
Rock that same outfit to client meetings and you’ll instantly be viewed more thoughtfully. The Doctor Look was a runaway success at my morning meeting but I got some truly concerned looks from grocery shoppers when I wore it shopping that evening. My hyper-minimal wardrobe is possibly missing a layer of personality.
Again, not saying I’m going to start buying ~expression~ with my clothes.
Hell will freeze over before I let my wallet justify buying more rubbish I don’t need. But maybe I can look to these British staples as inspiration to blow my outfit-of-the-day rotation out of the water every once in awhile.
Dress loudly for fun instead of it always being linked to profession/personality. Most unexpectedly, I kinda loved the fitted tailoring of the Peaky Blinders suit and hated loosieing that waistcoat at the end of Day 1. Both played devils advocate to my usual minimalist tops, straight-leg trousers ethos in ways that really challenged my idea of what I “look like” dressed sharply.
It was fun getting to wear a different version of myself for a day. Overall, my GF said I “looked less like arecovering tech bro and more like an actual human with feelings and opinions” throughout majority of the week. GET AT ME WITH AMERICAN SHOWS NEXT TIME.
PLEASE. With as many rom coms and sketch comedies as I’ve watched I actually hate to think what my wardrobe would look like if I did a week of IKEA hacks. But please do it to yourself, I already found the lint shaken off my flat cap in my jacket pockets.
TLDR: I enjoyed this enough I kept the waistcoat.
