Why what we wear can change how we feel and how we're seen.
I find it fascinating how putting on a piece of clothing can instantly make us feel different, perhaps even a slightly elevated version of ourselves the moment we slip it on.
Despite the fact that nothing about us has fundamentally changed.
We are the same person. We have the same face, the same body, the same experiences, the same ambitions, the same insecurities.
And yet somehow, the right jacket can help us stand a little taller. The right shoes can subtly shift the way we take a step or stand.
A beautifully cut shirt can make us feel more composed and elegant. A particular fabric against the skin can make us feel a little more sensual without quite understanding why.
Clothing does something to us at a deeper level.
And I think we understand much less about that relationship than we might imagine.
As the founder and creative director of GLOBAL CIRCLER, I have become increasingly interested in the psychology behind what we wear.
Not fashion in the traditional sense.
Something deeper.
Why do we care so much about clothes in the first place?
It starts much earlier than we think
Our relationship with clothing begins when we are children, long before we have any understanding of fashion.
We learn that certain clothes are for certain occasions.
There are clothes for school. Clothes for playing. Clothes for visiting relatives. Clothes that we are told are "smart". Clothes that are allowed to get dirty and clothes that aren't.
Then something else happens.
We get a bit older and begin to notice what other people are wearing.
We want the trainers that somebody else has. We want to dress like an older brother, sister or cool friend. We discover that clothing can make us feel part of something, or conspicuously outside it.
Even at that age, clothing is already gaining significance.
We just don't have the vocabulary, understanding or awareness to describe it just yet.
Then adolescence arrives and the relationship becomes much more complicated.
Clothing becomes identity.
It can be rebellion, belonging, attraction, confidence, insecurity, experimentation and protection, sometimes all at once.
You might dress to fit in with your friends, or deliberately dress differently from them.
You might discover that wearing a particular style makes you feel more confident and grown up as you are desperately trying to break the shackles of childhood and adolescence.
We don't just dress our bodies. We dress our identity.
As we enter adulthood, we develop increasingly complex relationships with clothing.
We might dress differently for a business meeting, a first date, a night out, a Sunday morning or a long flight.
The interesting thing is that we aren't simply responding to different social situations.
We are also changing how we want to feel within those situations.
A well cut suit can make somebody feel authoritative, grown up and in control.
A comfortable pair of jeans can help a person feel relaxed and cool.
A leather jacket can exude a sense of attitude and rebellion.
A soft cashmere sweater can make somebody feel comfortable, understated and quietly fashionable.
A beautiful cocktail dress can provide an extra sense of confidence in a high stakes social environment.
Technical clothing can make us feel sporty and active.
And sometimes something as simple as a perfectly fitting T-shirt can make us feel surprisingly well put together in the most casual of environments.
A badly fitting garment on the other hand can make us feel self-conscious. We adjust it, pull it down, pull it up, check ourselves in reflective surfaces, feel slightly awkward perhaps.
A garment that fits well allows us to stop thinking about the clothing and start thinking about whatever we are actually doing and where we are.
That to me is a sign of good design and something to strive for.
The first impression happens before we speak
There is another psychological dimension that interests me.
People see our clothes before they hear our voice.
Before we have introduced ourselves, shaken hands or had a conversation, somebody has already formed a first impression.
They may notice the outfit choice we have made.
The overall style.
The condition of our shoes.
The colours we are wearing.
Whether the outfit appears carefully considered or maybe even thoughtless and lacking effort.
Whether our clothes fit us.
Whether we look comfortable in them.
None of these observations tells somebody who we really are.
And yet as humans we are extraordinarily quick to form impressions from very limited information.
Clothes can become armour
I think there is also something more emotional happening.
Sometimes we use clothing as protection.
We have all probably experienced days when we don't feel particularly confident.
Perhaps we're tired. Perhaps we're going somewhere unfamiliar. Perhaps we're meeting people we want to impress.
On those days, clothing can become a kind of psychological armour.
We put on the outfit that we know works.
The jacket that makes us feel sharper.
The shoes that make us feel more grounded.
The shirt that always gets compliments.
And something changes.
Perhaps our posture improves slightly.
Perhaps we speak with a little more confidence.
Perhaps we become more willing to make eye contact.
Perhaps we simply stop worrying about how we look for a moment .
That last point is important.
Confidence isn't necessarily about believing that everyone else thinks you look fantastic.
Sometimes confidence comes from not thinking about yourself at all.
Good clothing can help create that state.
Fabric matters more than we realise
As someone interested in product design, I've become increasingly conscious of the fact that we often talk about clothing almost entirely visually.
Does it look good?
Does the colour work?
But clothing is not a two-dimensional object.
It is physical.
We touch it.
We smell it.
We move in it.
We feel its weight.
We experience its temperature and texture.
There is a reason a beautiful piece of clothing can feel special before we have even put it on properly.
The fabric tells us something.
The density of a heavyweight cotton.
The softness of a fine knit.
The crispness of a well-made shirt.
The drape of a particular weave.
These things create sensory associations that are difficult to fully understand or explain fully.
Clothing carries precious memories
Think about the clothes you have kept for years.
There are probably pieces in your wardrobe that have very little rational reason for still being there.
They're old.
Perhaps they're slightly worn.
Maybe you hardly wear them these days.
And yet you can't quite bring yourself to get rid of them.
Why?
Because clothing can become a physical container for memory. A little like music is the soundtrack to your life.
A jacket from a particular period of your life.
A shirt you wore on an important night.
Something associated with a relationship, a job, a city or a version of yourself that no longer exists.
The garment becomes more than its materials.
It carries a story.
And as the years pass, that story can become more valuable than the original price of the garment.
This is one reason I have never understood the idea that clothing should necessarily be disposable.
If something is beautifully made, if it becomes part of your life, if it develops character and memories, its value to you can actually increase with time.
We sometimes dress for the person we are striving to become
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of clothing is that it doesn't always reflect who we are.
Sometimes it reflects who we want to be.
The person buying their first really good jacket.
The person starting a new career.
The person moving to a new city.
The person travelling alone for the first time.
The person deciding that they are no longer going to dress according to somebody else's expectations.
Clothing can become part of a transition.
We don't necessarily buy something because it represents our current identity.
Sometimes we buy it because it represents the next version of ourselves.
This is where my thinking about GLOBAL CIRCLER began
GLOBAL CIRCLER started with an interest in clothing for people who move through the world, people who travel, work across borders, live between cities and cultures, or simply have a curiosity about what lies beyond the familiar.
But the more I think about clothing, the more I realise that mobility isn't only physical.
We all move through different versions of ourselves.
We are professionals one day and friends the next.
We are travellers, partners, parents, DJs, entrepreneurs, teachers, actors, creatives, explorers, hosts and guests.
We move between cities, cultures, environments and social situations.
I like to design clothing that moves with us.
Clothing that can work in a city, on a journey, in a café, at dinner, at a gallery, on a plane or walking through somewhere we've never been before.
Clothing that is considered without being precious.
Functional without looking technical.
Elegant without being formal.
Comfortable without looking lazy.
And distinctive without needing to shout.
That philosophy is increasingly important to me.
Because the more I think about clothing, the less interested I become in fashion for fashion's sake.
I'm interested in what clothing does to the person wearing it.
Does it make them feel comfortable?
Does it give them confidence?
Does it make them feel attractive?
Does it help them move through the world more freely?
Does it become something they reach for again and again?
Does it get better with age?
Does it eventually become part of their story?
Those are much more interesting questions to me than whether something happens to be fashionable this season.
The best clothing feels right physically and emotionally
There is a strange paradox here.
We spend an enormous amount of time thinking about what we wear, and yet the ultimate achievement of a garment may be to make us stop thinking about it.
When the fit is right.
When the fabric feels right.
When the design is intuitive.
When nothing needs adjusting.
When you simply put it on and go.
At that point, the clothing has done its job.
It has become part of you.
And perhaps that is the relationship I ultimately want GLOBAL CIRCLER to have with the people who wear it.
Not to make them feel like walking advertisements for a brand.
Not to tell them who they should be.
Not to make them chase whatever happens to be fashionable.
But to give them beautifully considered things that help them feel more comfortable, confident, capable and completely themselves.
Because ultimately, I don't think the purpose of great clothing is to change who you are.
It is to help you feel your true self or best case, a slightly elevated version of yourself.
Global Circler makes premium clothing for people who move through the world with curiosity, intention, and appreciation for things that endure.