THE JOURNAL
The Midriff Crisis: Why Putting On Weight Doesn’t Mean You Need A New Wardrobe

My favourite Breton top and I have consciously uncoupled. We’re taking a break, spending some time apart. The decision, after many happy years together, was not an easy one. But, after catching sight of my reflection in a shop window recently, the truth was plain. We just don’t work anymore.
Why not? Because those trusty horizontal stripes are no longer stout and straight, at least not in the midriff. Instead, they sag and bow around my stomach like the contour lines on a topographic map of the Lake District. What was once a flattering, easy-wearing staple has become a garment that draws attention to the fact that I’ve put on weight this past year or two.
Like many of us, I’m carrying what you might call a pandemic paunch. During the coronavirus lockdowns, I didn’t buy a Peloton bike. I bought pale ale selection boxes and subscribed to the groupthink that baking banana bread counted as self-care. The consequences of those decisions are today mushrooming over the top of my trousers.
Now, before we go any further, it’s worth a quick interjection to say that this really shouldn’t matter. Personal style and self-confidence should never be dependent on a waistline measurement. But it’s also true that those measurements are on the up.
In the UK, 40 per cent of adults have put on weight during the pandemic, the average tonnage adding 3kg (about half a stone), according to Public Health England. In the US, average weight gain was 13kg, according to the American Psychological Association. In my case at least, it’s making me reassess my wardrobe.
So, high-waisted trousers are a no. Tucked-in shirts and clingy merino sweaters, also no. I’ve become self-conscious about anything that draws attention to my straining waistband. It’s annoying, frankly, because I haven’t put on that much weight. It’s the distribution of it that’s the problem.
Like most men, I get fat in the belly. Whereas women store subcutaneous fat around the hips, thighs and bum, men’s excess calories more often become what’s known as abdominal visceral fat – the pot, the beer belly, the protuberant breadbasket. It’s a serious issue because this kind of fat surrounds our internal organs and contributes to men’s higher risk of certain diseases and lower life expectancy.
“Tailoring will always trick the eye and make you a lot more angular than maybe you are”
But let’s focus on what’s really important: does my gut look big in this?
Unlike womenswear, men’s fashion is mostly indifferent to the wobbly contours of the male body. While the female wardrobe often frames and follows the lines of the wearer’s figure, menswear tends to do the opposite. With the exception of muscle-fit tops and too-skinny jeans, our clothing isn’t designed to shrink-wrap around us.
It acts more like scaffolding, erecting an artificial silhouette around the lumpy truth that lies beneath. This applies to many of the hard-working staples of the male wardrobe: classic-fit suits, straight-leg jeans, oversized sportswear, chunky knitwear, boxy jackets. None of it is exactly form-fitting.
Their job does, however, get a little more difficult when our form expands outwards, especially from the middle. Protrusions after periods of excess – such as Christmas, holidays or global health crises – are harder to conceal and it becomes more complicated to know what’s flattering and what’s, well, fattering.
“Stay away from anything high-waisted or sweater tucks that will draw the eye to the problem area,” says A-list stylist Mr Christopher Brown, whose clients include the abdominally untroubled Mr David Beckham. To press home the scaffolding idea, you’re looking for clothes that will add structure around your mid-section, says Brown. “Tailoring will always trick the eye and make you a lot more angular than maybe you are.”
“During periods of weight gain [don’t] throw out everything just because it gets a little restricting. Buy some new T-shirts, sure, but visit your tailor, not the clothes bank”
Layering with overshirts and casual jackets does a similar job by flattening your silhouette from the side, says Hollywood stylist Ms Ilaria Urbinati. “It can be a light jacket you can keep on indoors or something like a denim or corduroy trucker jacket,” she says.
With fabrics, eschew elasticated cotton and fine-gauge wool for heavier, more structural materials. “The thinner the knit, the more belly will show, so a thicker cashmere sweater is going to be more flattering,” says Urbinati.
Brown suggests a denim shirt for similar reasons. “It always covers a multitude of sins because the heavier fabric creates that structure and doesn’t cling to the body,” he says.
Prints and pattern can be an issue, as I found out with my backstabbing Breton. Beware of stripes, including checks, where the design might pick out your newly acquired curves. “Darker block colours are going to help here,” says Urbinati. Shadows are less visible on darker tones, disguising any rolling hills that might have appeared on your torso.
Another thing to remember during periods of weight gain is not to throw out everything just because it gets a little restricting. Buy some new T-shirts, sure, but visit your tailor, not the clothes bank. “Have them let out the waist part of your suit jackets and the waist of your suit trousers,” says Urbinati. “It’s easier to do than you think. Most brands will have kept at least a few inches of extra fabric in there that can be let out. That two inches out is equivalent to a full size up.”
The same can be done with casual trousers (though not jeans), as long as the extra fabric is in there. And you can always have them taken in again when you’ve mustered the self-control to shift a few pounds.
Speaking of which, I’ve had a bellyful of my current physique and recently rejoined a gym with the aim of one day patching things up with my Breton top. Until then, I’m seeing out the winter with a final word from Brown. “There are some great elasticated trousers around at the moment,” he says. “They allow you to wear a tailored trouser, but with the added comfort of tracksuit bottoms.”
Whatever size I am, that’s style advice I can stomach.