I love tucking in.
I’m not talking about getting friendly with a giant bar of chocolate, remnants of milky goodness smeared across your lips, eyes glazed as you savour the last remaining sweetness staining your tongue (although I’ll admit this is a scarily near-perfect depiction of my chocolate encounters).
Nor am I talking about fond childhood memories of my parents tightening the bed sheets around me and snuggling contentedly into a cocoon of comforting warmth before drifting off to sleep.
Rather, I am talking about the act of tucking in one’s shirt, or TIS as I now like to call it.
It’s funny if I think about my history with the TIS. In my pre-teen and teenage years, if my mother were to suggest that I tuck my shirt in because it looked “sloppy” otherwise, I would have given her a dramatic eye roll, a patronising ‘you must be mad’ laugh, or something equally cheeky in response. Because tucking in shirts was only for nerds, of course.
It’s not like I was a child fashionista, renowned in the great town of East London, South Africa, for my exceptional taste, but I had enough knowledge to know that scruffy and casual trumped tucked in and smart in the land of pre-teen cool.
It wasn’t really until I moved to London a few years ago that I began to re-consider my take on the TIS. My fashion likes and dislikes changed a lot after my move. Perhaps it was being introduced to London’s inspiring world of fashion that made an impact on me. Or perhaps it was because the occasions I’d wear tights or pants (sorry, trousers) suddenly increased tenfold. Or maybe I gained a better understanding of my body shape and what felt and looked better. Whatever the cause, my style changed and my love for the TIS was born.
On body shape, I guess I learn towards a ‘pear’. I didn’t give much thought to different cheap nolvadex for sale body shapes or what looks suited my figure best before settling on a semi-regular style, but I guess it makes sense that what I tend to like more suits me better, the main realisation being that, through the art of the TIS, I am accentuating my waistline.
My favourite TIS look is a knee-length skirt, but worn at waist level. It draws the attention to my waistline and takes away the attention from my lower half, which is relatively hidden by a lovely, loose skirt. Depending on the fit, I also occasionally wear trousers or jeans at the waist with, vitally, my shirt tucked in.
There are other ways to accentuate the waistline, for example, a belt – I especially like the thicker, bulkier kind – but the TIS is definitely my favourite way of doing this.
The TIS seems to be very popular in London. I know, in the professional environment, it thrives. But I’ve never seen it to be so popular in casual wear as I have since moving to the UK. I’m not sure if it’s always been this way, or if it made a comeback around the same time as the high waist did, but it seems to have been fashionable for some time and I can’t imagine that tucking in your shirt will ever really be considered nerdy again.
Then again, when I was moaning to mother in my know-it-all-years that tucking in the shirt was a fashion no-no, perhaps the older generation thought it was more of a yes-yes. So maybe it’s an age thing.
One thing I do know is that the TIS will continue to be one of my wardrobe firm favourites for some time to come. Then again, my body can change. Perhaps, in the future, I will be of a different fruit variety and the tucked in shirt will no longer be flattering. Until then, I say, long live the TIS!