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I stopped dressing like a slob and saw the sartorial light: better clothes make for a brighter day | Andrew Martin

My wife once pointed out that my white shirts were grey. Now, the way I dress brings joy – to me and to other people, says author Andrew Martin

Mindful of the looming milestone, she had been proposing a series of prescriptions for me, including not drinking four glasses of wine every day, doing pilates and resuming learning French (which I had given up in protest against reflexive verbs). Even if I didn’t try to emulate them, I’d long appreciated those middle-aged men who shame their fellow members of society’s dowdiest cohort by wearing flowing overcoats instead of those puffer jackets that make everyone look like a bug, or who choose a scarf for its colour as much as its warmth. Nick Foulkes, writer and dandy, once came up to me at a party and said, with a sort of kindly exasperation: “Andrew, a tie knot is supposed to be a generous thing.” I’d be fleetingly inspired by glimpses of the very stylish Melvyn Bragg strolling on Hampstead Heath.

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