The exclusively difference between a student who has got to dress on no money and a secretary who has got to tee off on someone a put on dinner on no money is that the student can afford to look scruffy.
Ton students’ first clothes problem is general budgeting; the substitute problem is keeping warm and cheerful in draughty digs, draughty buses or draughty upbraid halls. Achieving this on a sensibly balanced budget means buying expedient clothes that last, rather than a bottle of corn which doesn’t.
A good coat is an essential investment because that is what you wear most and what you are ton seen in. As long as the outside looks good, people don’t mistrust there’s a safety-pin in your grubby bra. Some think it’s important to choose a coat that won’t bore you fast, some consider it silly not to buy scarlet on the grounds that it’s first impressions that reckon on and you want to make lots of those.
The next primary garment is a good basic jacket which can be thrown over trousers, skirts and nightgowns. If you can produce suede, you have no fashion problem, but otherwise it’s difficult to convalesce on a classic but well-cut reefer jacket.
The best-cut jeans are Levis, and you will-power need two pairs. Black are almost impossible to track down, so decide for navy and sludgy beige. Wear your jeans when your aunt doffs you out to lunch (not dirty, or you won’t get taken where the food is good and high-priced). If she disapproves of them, a helpless shrug should result in a tolerable tip.
You’ll need at least two dresses, one a tent dress which pass on allow for layers of warming underwear on chilly days. You’ll prerequisite two shirts and two sweaters to team with two skirts and your Levis.
Don’t fasten on too many clothes: you probably won’t have anywhere to put them. You’ll penury something grand only if you’re going up to Oxford or Cambridge. Anywhere else we reckon you can bum or improvise: students were, after all, the first people to array out of junk shops.