Daily Mail journalists select and curate the products that feature on our site. If you make a purchase via links on this page we will earn commission – learn more
It is not a sight I thought I would ever see. My husband, Anthony, sashaying around a department store changing room like Julia Roberts in the Rodeo Drive scene from Pretty Woman.
First, he’s in a pale pink cotton sweater, a white brushed cotton shirt and a delicious boxy blue worker jacket with deep open pockets. Next, a green towelling shorts co-ord that is pure Made in Chelsea, then he’s strutting in stone-coloured short shorts and pointy-toed mushroom loafers.
Considering he was hunched and defensive in his green gilet and baggy-bottomed chinos when we first arrived at this personal shopping session, this is quite the turnaround.
Anthony looks 15 years younger and is clearly having a ball.
My friends won’t believe I’ve pulled this off; none of their husbands would ever countenance anything that smacks of a makeover. Their menfolk shop online and rarely, refusing to acknowledge burgeoning waistlines and hiding from the fashion world in ways women can rarely get away with.
After all, while 50-plus women are under no illusion they can slip into a comfortable middle age, men still assume they need make no effort at all with their appearance at this point.
To be fair to Anthony, he’s in pretty good nick. Now 60, he still runs twice a week, his face remains unwrinkled and he has all his own hair. He may be a little burlier around the chest but he is trim and together. He is proud of the fact that he can still fit into clothes he bought in his 20s.
The trouble is, he is still wearing them. Or versions of them.
In winter, it’s flat-fronted, narrow-legged cords and twills paired with his old City shirts now fraying at the collar; in summer, flat-fronted chinos or baggy shorts, topped with short-sleeved button-downs or polos.
Anthony is proud of the fact that he can still fit into clothes he bought in his 20s. The trouble is, he is still wearing them… or versions of them
The green towelling co-ord, which I thought was super cool and therefore bound to be out of our cost range, turns out to be John Lewis… only £45 for the top and £35 for the shorts
So far, so mid-road mid-life man… but the most heinous crimes have always occurred in the footwear department. When we met on holiday in Provence in 1997, I lusted over his toned, tanned body and blond hair but his shoes troubled me on a molecular level. Suede desert boots or, worse, Oxford brogues with stripy socks pulled halfway up his calves.
He looked half Riviera dreamboat, half off-duty civil servant.
Nearly 30 years and three pairs of desert boots later, it’s fair to say it’s beginning to annoy me. So when a friend tells me that trusty John Lewis (surely they wouldn’t let me down?) now runs a male personal style service (no obligation, no minimum spend), I grasp the nettle and book Anthony in.
This is my chance to shake him out of his fashion doldrums, solve the summer shorts-and-shoes fiasco and give him the male equivalent of a Glow Up.
Not that I tell him this of course. I merely pretend I’ve had a small £500 premium bonds windfall and want to buy him some new clothes. Once in store, I coax him into the private session on the basis that it’s free and efficient, knowing how much he hates trailing round shops.
‘I’ll have a look but I’m not promising anything,’ he grumbles. ‘And it won’t take too long, will it?’ (Just the two hours, I think silently.)
But the minute the door-disguised-as-bookcase swings open and we are ushered into the blue-velvet-lined Speakeasy male styling room, Anthony is impressed. This immediately feels more James Bond suave than a cringeworthy Jeff Banks makeover.
Our stylist, Mark Lewis, has worked here at the JL flagship on Oxford Street for 25 years, the last seven as a stylist, and there’s nothing he doesn’t know about his wares. I’ve already filled in an online form with my husband’s sizes, height, hair/eye colour and skin tone as well as an indication of budget and a line or two about what I – sorry, Anthony and I – want to get out of the session.
Anthony with John Lewis stylist Mark… Anthony is wearing a brushed cotton white shirt and pale pink sweater under a blue shacket
Anthony in Hugo Boss slim-fit indigo jeans and Dune brown suede loafers
Mark has a rail filled with some suggestions but goes to get more when Anthony says that, while he’s happy to try new stuff (I try not to look triumphant), retro and narrow cut is what he likes.
Mark says this is all part of the process; the day before, a client had said he wanted to look like Jamie Redknapp, or ‘football pundits in general’. We chuckle about this as Mark runs off to get more relevant pieces.
‘Quick!’ hisses my husband. ‘Let’s try on some stuff while he’s away.’
For the next five minutes, he’s yanking things off the rack and leaping into them, building a pile of what he likes on one side and doesn’t like on the other. I’m an equally speedy valet – unbuttoning shirts to get them ready, shrugging him into jackets, putting rejects back on to their hangers – and we are still giggling together when Mark comes back. Already this is fun.
When it comes to the new offerings, Mark is winningly reassuring – wheedling Anthony into unexpected items with a murmured ‘it’s different but it’s not wrong’ assurance.
He tells us he’s familiar with the concept of the husband-stuck-in-rut syndrome.
‘Over two-thirds of our appointments are made by women, for their husband, boyfriend, father, sometimes even son or brother,’ he smiles. ‘Only one or two turn up reluctant – we had one who threw a strop at first, hissing. “Just ask her” when I first showed him stuff, but even he calmed down and eventually bought a whole new wardrobe.
‘Often I persuade men to dare to be a little bit different by telling them they can always just try stuff out first on holiday, far away from judgmental neighbours!’
Turns out that men’s fashion is a wider spectrum than many men imagine. For every baggy, funky pair of trousers instantly rejected by my retro-leaning husband, there is a narrow-legged equivalent. For every boring old polo, there’s a terry-towelling Cuban-collared swap.
Cost-wise, as per our budget, Mark has leant towards the own brand JL range. The green towelling co-ord, which I thought was supercool and therefore bound to be out of our cost range, turns out to be JL: only £55 for the top and £35 for the shorts. I’m impressed. To my surprise, so is Anthony.
But Mark is about to unleash greater miracles. My husband has not worn jeans this century, ever since he took a stand against the Dress Down Friday ubiquity of the cowboy look when he worked in the City in the 90s – and yet here he is, grinning at me as he steps out from behind the curtain, head to toe in… double denim.
Workaday blue denim shirt, again from JL, untucked; indigo Hugo Boss jeans below. He looks… incredible. Younger, sexier and with a grin that shows me he knows the effect he’s having. Once I’ve picked myself up off the floor, they go straight into the shopping basket before he changes his mind.
That bursts the dam. Next Mark is steering him away from colourful plaids and polos and into that brushed cotton white shirt and pale pink sweater. As for shoes, the loafers go straight into the basket, along with the green co-ord and the boxy blue jacket, which turns out to be called a ‘shacket’.
Then I see him slipping into the deck shoes he refused to wear back in the last millennium for being too ‘banker-w*****’. Could this spell the end for the desert boots once and for all?
‘I get it. Summer footwear used to be tough for men,’ says Mark understandingly. ‘But now there are so many options: the Italian loafer look, a nice white trainer, a deck shoe, even a slider.’
It’s as if someone wrenched the needle from the record. My husband’s face darkens.
‘Sliders? On a 60-year-old man? No, no, no, Mark, you’ve gone too far. I’ve got red lines, you know, and now you’ve crossed them.’
I sneakily agree. Sliders are a step too far, even for my newly dapper husband. But we still leave with a clutch of bags that Julia Roberts herself would be proud of.
ANTHONY SAYS…
I’ve always rather fancied myself as being a suave dresser – clean lines, good colours, a bit Talented Mr Ripley retro – so I bridle when Susannah teases me for being stuck in a style rut.
I don’t think she gives me enough credit for refusing to follow fashion orthodoxy. I’ve always hated fashion for fashion’s sake and prefer a timeless approach.
At first, I was distrustful of being sold overpriced tat that would look dated by next summer. So it was great that Mark understood me instantly and catered brilliantly to my tastes. He tweaked me just enough that we were all pleased with the results.
Sorry Susannah, but I’m not retiring the desert boots entirely. Though I do love my new loafers.
A week on, I must admit I haven’t worn any of my new gear yet. But I’ve told Susannah I’m saving the first ‘launch’ for when we go out together; she’s been working too hard recently and I want to show myself off to her on a proper night out. Then I’ll wear it every day. Honest.
Mark’s top tips if your man is stuck in a style rut
1. Dress for your frame, not your age. The years are no barrier to fashion, especially now that male tailoring is so much cleverer about adapting to the differences of a midlife male body. T-shirts are cut to flatter chunky arms and skim across any middle-age spread, and blazers are made in different lengths: the rule of thumb is that you should be able to grip the hem of a jacket without bending your arms (too short) or bending down (too long). Quality, comfort and fit should always be the priority over trends.
2. Stay true to yourself but be ready to mix in new things. I could see right away that Anthony was a stylish guy who’d just got a bit stuck, so I played to his love of retro but changed the textures up a little and introduced new shapes like the shorter shorts and the boxy work jacket. He was then happy to step out of his comfort zone.
3. Don’t fear colour: start neutral with items that can be easily matched together (the capsule approach) then start to embrace the amount of colour you feel comfortable with, highlighting features such as skin tone, hair and eyes. Anthony went bold, but even just a pop of colour in a pocket square or coloured socks under jeans might be enough for you.
4. When it comes to shoes in summer, the rules have relaxed – too much for Anthony, perhaps, but you can’t go wrong with a pair of loafers or boat shoes. One rule that still applies is to match the colour of a belt to the shoes.
5. When it comes to buttoning up a jacket, there’s a helpful little acronym: from the top button down – M-A-N. Top button – Maybe. Middle button – Always. Bottom button – Never
