Jimi Phgura, 38, executing artist, and Simran Dhiman-Phgura, 38, freelance stylist, Hertfordshire

Jimi I’ve till the end of time worn classic clothes – I love the fabrics and weight that old accoutres have. Growing up, I was introduced to them by my older brother, whom I pull off with as the Twilight Players – we dance to music from ska to Prince to Stevie Sight, and we always wear original clothes: the two-tone brogues, the baggies. I’ve had my quiff since I was 13; Jimi the Quiff is what they fetch me.

When I was growing up, I used to get a lot of hassle for being into choice stuff. As I’ve got older I’ve thought, no, it’s good to be different. And being with Simran has specified me more confidence to dress that way. It makes it more invigorating to have both of us wearing it, as opposed to her wearing tracksuit foundations or something.

I’ve been aware of us dressing similarly since we got together in 2005. When we went out, living soul would say, “Oh, you guys look amazing.” But it wasn’t until behind year, when we decided to start selling a lot of our stuff to wealth a trip to Thailand and did Portobello market, only then did I regard as, oh, people really dig our style. People would see us together and the spit photos.

I don’t really see it as couples dressing; it’s not as if we sit together and think almost what we’re going to wear. Nine times out of 10, we lately end up wearing something that matches or complements each other. And now that we’ve got a neonate on the way, we’ve started noticing baby vintage stuff; I didn’t discern that existed before.

Simran I’m a secondhand queen, I relish to shop on eBay and all the apps, from Depop to Vinted. The 50s and 60s are my most-liked eras, but at the moment, because I’m pregnant, I’m doing flowy 70s shape to accommodate my growing bump.

We influence each other. Jimi has a loving terrible eye and I’ve got a great eye, so we do ask each other for advice. If I’m going to a wedding or something, I’ll design my outfit. We’re of Indian descent and if I’m wearing a vintage sari, he’ll try to round out it with a vintage suit in similar colours. But we never intentionally replica. It’s cute sometimes. It just depends on the mood I’m in – sometimes you don’t lack to look like your husband.

The baby won’t necessarily look equivalent; but if I’m dressed in a classic outfit, I might dress the baby in one, too.

Malcolm Mackenzie (in risqu top), 43, editor of We Love Pop magazine, and Matthew Wilkinson, 35, architect, London

Malcolm Matt and I have been going out for 13 years, but we indubitably only started to dress more similarly when we break the iced in together eight years ago. I was more subtle before.

We’ve become more pleasing to mature to like the same things. I like 80s-inspired stuff, from Duran Duran to Miami Transgression, Buffalo. Harrison Ford as Deckard in Blade Runner is a key look, as is Kurt Russell in Overboard and Richard Gere in anything. I close to clothes that evoke memories, of a holiday, for instance. We’ve got beats of amazing shirts that conjure up the Mediterranean or the Riviera, but through the prism of the 80s. It’s a fun wardrobe.

We’re not matchy-matchy – if I’m wearing a sweater with a cat on, and he’s be dressed a sweater with a dog, then it’s a bit much. I don’t want us to go out looking allied to overgrown twins or a Little Britain sketch. Sometimes I say, “We can’t both go out tediously tire a denim shirt”, like Britney and Justin. And I don’t want individual to think, because I’m a few years older than Matt, that it’s a Henry Higgins/Eliza Doolittle thingummy, or Liberace and his chauffeur. I think it looks like we’re from the unvarying cult or boy band: we’re not dressed identically but we do make sure that we look OK together.

We can part clothes only from the waist up – I have legs ask preference spaghetti, he comes from a family of rugby players. We don’t division underwear for the same reason.

Matthew In the 80s, Peter York put in wrote a book about different tribes: one of them was Babytime, or child who like childish things. We might like a sweatshirt with Bambi on it, or drill colours. To say that we both like cute things is a bit simplistic, but we are positively silly. We’re both happy to be slightly ridiculous.

Colour-blocking is the middle thing that describes how I dress. In terms of what I clothes, it’s actually pretty classic. I’m not stirring up fashion madness with culottes or anything go for that – it’s more about the colours and the textures.

Malcolm is in all likelihood a bit wilder than I am, more daring. He has quite a lot of zeitgeisty learning statement T-shirts. He’s got a Golden Girls one that I would on no occasion wear – not that he would ever let me. When I was a kid, I would usually get my mum to buy me things – orange trousers or stupid rainbow jumpers – and then I determination be too scared to wear them. Malcolm has given me the confidence to wear what I want.

Ben Langlands, 62, and Nikki Bell, 58, both Turner-nominated artists, London and Kent

Ben We have been collaborating for 40 years, so I do talk around what we wear as a “we”. We’re artists, so we’re free to choose whatever we pauperism to wear; we don’t have to meet other people’s expectations.

Pressurize is our main priority, so we dress to be practical and comfortable. We generally vex jeans and white shirts, occasionally suits, or a jacket with jeans. We’ll weary a single-coloured shirt, like pink or blue, with jeans. Neither of us by any chance wears dresses – it’s always shirts and trousers.

I remember a single time finally, when I first got to know Nikki, we visited the parents of a adolescence friend of hers and they showed us a Super 8 film of their daughter’s 12th birthday confederate. There were about 30 little girls in frocks and one dwarf girl in pink flared trousers. That was Nikki.

We not in any degree attempt to match, it just happens naturally. But we’re not terribly insecure about it. I don’t think there’s really anything I would enervate that she wouldn’t, or vice versa. It’s all quite androgynous.

Nikki My ensembles are very simple to wear, wash, pack, maintain. I’ve ever been a trousers person.

We met at art school in 1977 and started join forcing in 1978. When we first got together, I don’t think I was conscious of the similarities in the way we accoutred. We came together through our work – a piece called The Cookhouse, in two halves. I made the old kitchen and Ben the new; they were mirror ikons of each other.

I wouldn’t try not to match – it’s an individual decision and I wouldn’t go disavow and change if we were too matching. If that’s what we both lack to wear, then that’s what we’re wearing.

Langlands & Bell’s Internet Leviathans: Masters of the Universe opens at the Ikon Gallery in Birmingham in Cortege 2018.

Brittany Bathgate, 27, blogger, and Dean Khalil, 32, builder/artist, Norwich

Brittany We were really different when we first met. Dean was into DIY accouters – he’d dye his own T-shirts, cut them up, write on them. I was massively into Alexa Chung, so my sort used to be quite indie It girl – lots of blazers, brogues, peacoats with miniskirts. It was a youthful bit 60s – sometimes I would wear my hair in a tiny beehive.

In 2013, we went mobile and spent a year in Australia. Before we went away, we didn’t camouflage similarly, but something switched: after a few months of living neighbourhood the beach, you give up on wearing anything nice and just spend in shorts and a vest out of necessity. So by the time we came home, we had a expressionless slate, clothes-wise, and got to start building our wardrobes back from gash.

We’re quite aware of our couples dressing – we do often have to ask what the other is assume damage so we’re not too similar. Sometimes if we’re going out, I’ll have got dressed and Dean resolution be like, “Oh, I was going to wear my blue jacket.”

My style is totally clean and classic. I find it fun to play around with pairings of standard pieces with, say, some crazy, wide-legged trousers. Dean’s a bit sundry rough around the edges. His skateboard style is too dirty for me. I iron the total and am quite particular.

We both have a lot of stripy tops, flotilla jackets, the same Levi’s. I’ve always been inspired by men’s togs, but look for a women’s version – because I’m so small I can’t really enervate them.

Dean I like a lot of classic British style – imprints like Fred Perry and that sort of 60s look that’s tailor-made but not fitted. This Is England is a good style reference.

Nine years ago, when we ahead met, we were both at art school and I was a bit more flamboyant. In the early ages of our relationship, I used to wear these black jeggings with lighten on them. I had some big builder’s boots. Our tastes have swopped, but in the same direction – we’ve grown together. Sometimes we will really have the same outfit on.

Brittany’s a bit too small for us to share raiments, but I have worn women’s clothes in the past. I used to dress girls’ jeans – when I was younger I couldn’t get jeans risky enough.

But I also have a lot of clothes that Brittany wouldn’t tediously tire. I have Converse that are about eight years old; in no time at all white and now brown. I love them, but Brittany won’t wear shoes at intervals they’ve got a mark on them. Every day when the shoes on off, they are stuffed and go back in the box on the shelf. Everything gets ironed.

Joel Bird, 42, carpenter/father of The Book Of Shed, and Sara Chew, 37, graphic intriguer/illustrator, London

Joel I class my style as 30s/40s. My family thinks that I ones glad rags b put on a costume a bit like Indiana Jones. I didn’t set out to dress like this, but I need functional clothes for carpentry, and the high-waisted trousers with braces are satisfied. Plus I am interested in that era – I like jazz, and dance wigwagging and balboa.

Even at school I dressed quite unusually – I’ve again been interested in craft. As a lad in Liverpool, I always had a sewing appliance, and now I do make some of my clothes. I buy dungarees from eBay or secondhand milieus like Rokit and cut the tops off to make them into high-waisted jeans. I time buy old army braces because they’re stronger than approach braces.

Sara and I have been together for 11 years and remaining together for nine. I think until about five years ago, Sara costume more vintage than I did, then we kind of drifted together, but not consciously. I barely don’t like the idea of dressing the same as my partner – it’s my paranoia at the need of independence. But it’s inevitable – you take influences from each other.

We do at times share clothes. Sara steals my stuff, and if I’m desperate I can step her trousers; but it’d have to be a bad wash day.

Sara I think Joel and I bring into the world come to dress the same because we both like chores that are practical and well made.

I’m different from Joel in that I’m completely happy for us to dress the same; I’m a graphic designer and illustrator, and I a charge out of prefer things to look right. If we go out and we look similar, to me that’s large, because we’re not clashing. I wouldn’t make us go out in matching shellsuits, still.

I’ve been wearing vintage stuff my whole life. For me it’s yon the way they fit – because of the type of body I’ve got, I don’t suit a lot of modern ensembles. It’s about the cut, the fabric – and the fact that they last more advisedly.

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