So, the point of what I am wearing today is that it looks like a dress, but it’s not a dress. It’s a co-ord, which means two matching soft-separate pieces that go together to make an outfit. By soft-separate, I mean a top and bottom in cotton, like this one, or silk or knit, not a tailored suit. And by matching, I mean in the same colour and/or print. (Black doesn’t count.) And, no, not a bikini.
Is co-ord really a word? Well, Brexit wasn’t a word. Bromance wasn’t a word. Was quinoa a word before this decade? OK, maybe technically, but not one anyone used, so it hardly counts. And, no, we can’t call them matching soft-separates, because that sounds too 1970s regional department store. So co-ord is a word as of, well, now.
A co-ord is cooler than a suit and sharper than a dress. Matched pairs of things veer towards the twee – I am thinking of twinsets, and shoes matched to handbags – but a co-ord does the opposite. It’s as if you took your date dress and consciously uncoupled it. So modern! Also, at the risk of stating the eye-bleedingly obvious, you can wear the two halves… separately.
I am a bit allergic to fanciful ideas about how to make clothes multitask, because most of them are idiotic. (“On holiday, why not wear your swimsuit to dinner? Just add a full-length ball skirt and diamonds!”) But even I can see that a co-ord can be taken apart and put back together again. This shirt would work on holiday with denim shorts. And when the summer starts to end, the skirt can meet a rolltop sweater and ankle boots for a summer-to-autumn look.
The co-ord is, as I mentioned, cool. So I think it’s fine that the type I am wearing here is the least hipster version. The more rock’n’roll end of the look is happening in festival fashion: a striped knitted bandeau top with matching pull-on miniskirt, or a white denim bustier and matching shorts. There’s loads of that sort of thing around. If that’s your bag, you can accessorise your look with ironically ugly trainers and glitter makeup, and a bum bag worn slung over one shoulder, or whatever.
For the rest of us, a pyjama suit, with silky trousers and a wrap or shirt jacket, is about as outre a version as is going to be wearable. (Zara has lots.) Or, a slick tracksuit, the kind you wear with a low heel instead of an ironically ugly trainer (I am obsessed with Ganni’s candy-pink version). It’s cool, it’s wearable, and you can put an outfit together in the dark. Game, set and matching.
• Jess wears shirt, £29, and skirt, £36, both topshop.com. Sandals, £289, by MR by Man Repeller, from marthalouisa.com. Jewellery, Jess’s own. Styling: Melanie Wilkinson. Hair and makeup: Carol Morley at Carol Hayes Management.