Kayt Turner: 'The adage that you grow to look like your partner isn't true, you just dress like them'

Published on Saturday 6 February 2010 18:59

WHILE waiting for a friend last week, I watched an old couple make their way up the street. Arm in arm, they were a sweet wee sight.

When I looked closely at them, I realised that they looked surprisingly alike. But upon closer inspection (in my case, that meant when they got closer – my peepers aren't exactly what they once were) I realised it wasn't so much that they looked alike, but that they were dressed alike. They had similar coats on. Their woolly hats were pretty much identical. Their trousers were exactly the same. They even had matching frames on their glasses.

And I realised that the old adage that you grow to look like your partner (or is that your pet? I'm never too sure) isn't entirely true. The fact is, you just start to dress like them.

You may well have spent your childhood years fighting tooth and nail so you weren't dressed like your little brother or sister. Or maybe you tried your hardest to dress exactly like your older siblings. But, surely, when you're a grown-up, you get to be yourself, however depressing that might actually be.

It starts almost by accident. It's not that you set out to buy the same jeans, or even a similar style. Just that, over time, you end up with the same stuff. If fashion is for skinny jeans, then you're both going to have skinny jeans. But the reason that you're both still sporting loons isn't always because you want to head out into the world looking like Hoddit and Doddit, it's mainly because fashions change – but you don't.

You have to be permanently on your guard against the insidious creep of matchy-matchy-itis. It's all too easy to find yourself in the same position as Gary and the new Mrs Lineker, who were seen recently cutting a dash about town in matching leather jackets. And from there, it's but one short step to Posh and Becks and their matching Gucci jumpsuits.

I have a lovely black jacket that I can no longer wear. Because it's remarkably similar to a lovely black jacket that Mr Turner has. We made the mistake of wearing them at the same time some months ago and were referred to as The Bobbsey Twins for the entire evening by a so-called friend who seemed to think he was being terribly, terribly droll. Noel Coward has little to fear.

As is the way you notice one couple dressed alike and suddenly they're everywhere. And lest you think this is confined to the, er, more mature members of the populace, think again. Loads of young people are matchy-matchy. And not just gaggles of teenaged girls who are walking identikit versions of each other. Couples in ripped parkas carrying record bags. Couples in matching coats. Couples with matching walking boots. Couples with matching fleeces. One couple even had matching sequinned Converse baseball boots.

One young swain confused me mightily. I thought he was just a fuller-figured young man clad in a very large purple fleece, skulking in the doorway of John Lewis. Turns out he was clamped tightly to his paramour from the lips down, and their matching attire had seamlessly melded into one large, quivering purple mass. Maybe that's the intention of all these matched up couples. Although I'd like to make quite clear to Mr Turner that if I wear that black jacket in public again, it's certainly not an invitation.