The trend I shouldn’t have tried in 2022

My first discovery was a hooded cape with tassels, Owen Wilson as Hansel supermodel atmosphere. 2001 was very hot, perfect for ayahuasca circles, but not for lunch at Sean’s Panorama overlooking Sydney’s Bondi Beach.

Then the shirt came along. Well, I’ve evolved enough to call it a shirt. This cotton shirt has contrasting piping on the collar to express my love for mariachi, and the palm tree graphic on the back is summery without relying on Zimmermann’s signature florals.

The Bee Gees perform at the

The Bee Gees perform at the “Unicef ​​Concert: The Gift of Songs” benefit concert at the United Nations General Assembly in New York City, January 9, 1979. Left to right: Maurice Gibb (1949-2003), Barry Gibb and Robin Gibb (1949-2012). Orgasm track pants from Zimmermann.Credit:Getty, provided

The moment I entered the dressing area, flashbacks to a place where I didn’t belong came, like being dragged across Myer’s underwear floor by my mum as a toddler years later or being shot in a lesbian bar. Uneasy glances from other shoppers are filed away as a future spiral of shame.

Surprisingly, the shirt fits perfectly. Who knew I was Zimmermann number three? Now comes the real problem. What pants should I wear?

On its website, Zimmermann recommends wearing the shirt with matching high-waisted shorts, but they immediately reminded me of Nellie Forbush in the musical south pacificwhich is beyond my scope in many ways.


The sales associate tried to rescue me with a pair of high-waisted cotton slacks with contrast trim. Slip into it, and the spiral of shame makes a comeback faster than expected.

While I’m happy to accept that the shirt is a shirt, I’m uncomfortable standing in front of the dressing room mirror in a pair of slacks.

Two things are obvious. I don’t wear a size three of slacks and not all clothes are unisex. Thanks to the snug fit, my genitals are vacuum-packed to my lap in a look favored by Rod Stewarts, Bay City Rollers, and Seventies Bee Gees.

By carefully adjusting my waist and unbuttoning my shirt, the staff reassures me that I’m not violating health codes, but you can tell by the way I walk that my gender-neutrality has crossed the line of being gender-offensive.


Shocked, I went into a retail coma and left the store with my very first Zimmermann bag wrapping my pants beautifully.

The illusion stopped when I tried the dress on at home, away from the encouraging staff. The pants are folded and sent back to the store.

At lunch, I wore a Zimmermann shirt and my trusty MJ Bale suit, receiving compliments from Nicky and Simone and support on social media. Across the restaurant, there was a guy in the pants I tried on that was waistlined and looked great and modest, but I’ll wait until they’re a size four to try this trend again.

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