I Spent £2,400 On Beige Trousers And My Mum Rang The Samaritans
Determined to master the 'quiet luxury' aesthetic, I remortgaged my dignity for a wardrobe of deliberately forgettable neutrals. Seven days later, HR had sent a wellness check and my neighbour left a Lidl voucher under my door. It turns out Britain is spectacularly ill-equipped to distinguish between 'old money elegance' and 'recent redundancy.'