Casual fling

One thing that's changed for the better during my lifetime is clothing etiquette. Clothing was much more formal when I was young, but over the years has become increasingly casual and relaxed.

Where once men were expected to wear suits and ties for all sorts of professional and white collar jobs, now they're often in open-neck shirts and loose-fitting pants. Women might be wearing something similar rather than tight skirts and high heels.

There's no longer a strict ban on fancy hairdos, excessive jewellery, unusual nail polish (i.e. not red), unusual tights (i.e. not flesh coloured), flashy earrings, tattoos and piercings (though a tattoo reading "I'm overworked and underpaid" might raise a few eyebrows).

Anyway the change is fine by me. I'm not bothered by people's clothing so much as whether they can do their job efficiently. Obviously I would draw the line at pyjamas or dungarees or bikinis but comfortable, easy to wear clothing seems better than formal clothing that's restrictive and annoying.

I know some people aren't happy with the changing expectations, and insist formal clothing makes them more confident in the wearer's abilities, but I think that's more a lingering opinion than a serious argument.

Even on special occasions like funerals and weddings, where dark suits and formal clothing used to be obligatory, many attendees now dress quite casually or even flamboyantly. I once felt embarrassed that all I had to wear for a funeral was a bright green jacket, but today nobody would bat an eyelid.

What's more, suits can be very pricey and tough on your budget, so making them optional is a positive step forward.

Luckily I've mostly had jobs where casual clothing is the norm, so I haven't actually owned a suit since my early twenties. I was glad to get rid of it.

Gender dissenters

I hate gender roles. They put so many arbitrary limits on what you can and can't do. Women should be this and this. Men should be this and this. And if you do something that doesn't fit your allotted gender role, you can get a very frosty reception.

Which is why I really admire those people who deliberately flout their designated role and are prepared to put up with all the negative responses, however upsetting and infuriating.

Like the artist Grayson Perry, who revels in his alter ego Claire, with her flamboyant dresses and bizarre hairdos. Of course he can get away with it because he's a phenomenally successful artist, but even so.

Like Samira Ahmed, who took the BBC to an employment tribunal in a dispute over equal pay, and won.

Like the Pakistani girl Malala Yousafzai, who from the age of 11 campaigned for the right of girls to go to school.

Like Sally Ride, who in 1983 became the first American woman in space when she rode the space shuttle Challenger.

Like women who sport cropped hair, a suit and tie, and chunky footwear. They know the ignorant will assume they're lesbian or "wasting their femininity" but that doesn't put them off.

Like all the women who're determined to pursue careers traditionally reserved for men, and all the men who're happy to be house-husbands.

But these unabashed gender benders are still thin on the ground. The reality is that gender roles are very strictly enforced and you need a thick skin and a lot of bravery to ignore them.

It would be fun if I could wear a dress occasionally, but I don't think east Belfast is quite ready for such wayward behaviour. I'll have to leave it to the celebs and the unrepentant social mavericks.

Dress sense

I'm forever baffled by men's attitude to clothing. They seem to be quite happy wandering around in amazingly boring clothes, with no wish to be more adventurous or colourful or eye-catching.

Go into any office block and there are the massed ranks of men in their black suits, white shirts, ties and black shoes. Maybe a slightly garish tie if they're feeling really bold.

If they're in a less formal workplace like a charity, they might roll up in jeans and a casual shirt. Or even an earring or two. But there the daring stops.

They adhere rigidly to the prevailing male dress codes as if it's a matter of life or death. Any move away from the officially sanctioned range of clothing is simply unthinkable. Men dress in a certain way and that's it.

Don't they sometimes think, I rather fancy wearing a skirt today? I wonder how I'd look in a frilly blouse? Suppose I wore a long swishy dress? No, of course they don't, because they're men and men just don't have silly girly thoughts like that.

Besides, if they wore anything other than orthodox masculine clothing (and especially anything girly) it would be the biggest social embarrassment ever. All their mates would laugh at them. Their boss would fire them. Women would titter and giggle. Shop assistants would give them peculiar looks. They'd be instant pariahs and freaks.

No, wearing interesting and attractive clothing may be okay for women, but men are different. Sartorial restraint is required. Experiments with clothing are frowned upon. Clothes aren't there to have fun with, they're the outward signs of male responsibility and propriety. Wear your suit with pride! Adjust your tie manfully! No frivolity please, we're blokes.

Men in suits

Why is it that men in positions of authority are always expected to wear suits? Do we really believe they're more knowledgeable and responsible if they're wearing a matching jacket and pants, usually rumpled and ill-fitting, usually from a cut-price chain store?

I'm forever bemused by those line-ups of politicians, every one of them in their obligatory suits, except for the more informally dressed women. The chance of their all being honest, principled and conscientious is practically zero, yet there they are in their mandatory uniforms, trying to convince us otherwise.

Like most people, I imagine, I judge others by what they say and do, not by whether they're wearing a suit or some kind of official dress. I would draw the line at visible unkemptness, but why should casual clothing make me suddenly doubt someone's ability to draw up a will or give me a bank account or sell me insurance?

Even male newsreaders wear suits, as if an earthquake will turn out to be a giant hoax if they give us the news wearing a T shirt and chinos. Even hotel receptionists wear suits, as if that will magically turn a scruffy flea-box into a de-luxe, penthouse suite. Who are they kidding?

I'm proud to say I've only possessed one suit in my entire life, strictly for the more pompous occasions when I was a local journalist. I just don't see the point. They obliterate your true identity and turn you into a featureless clone.

I envy women's freedom to dress more flexibly, in clothes that reflect their personality and are much more fun. The male suit is a curious anachronism that should be consigned to history.

Dress codes

I'm always bemused by workplace dress codes. As far as I can see, asking employees to wear special clothes that conform to some arbitrary company image is almost entirely pointless and misguided.

For all the effort people put into finding the right suit, not looking too sexy, choosing sober colours, or toning down the jewellery, how much difference does it actually make to the business they're working for, or the customers?

The idea is that chaste, decorous clothes inspire confidence in whoever you're dealing with and get the cash flowing, but I have my doubts.

After all, suits are the norm for some of the least respected jobs - politicians, estate agents, car salesmen - but they don't cut the mustard there. And no intelligent adult is going to swallow some dodgy mortgage deal just because the man in the bank is in regulation pinstripes rather than a racy shirt and chinos.

On the other hand, casual clothes are routine in some of the most successful businesses ever, like IT and online shopping. And nobody doubts a plumber's expertise when he walks in wearing stained jeans and a torn T-shirt.

I suspect the motive for dress codes is not so much company credibility as controlling the staff and showing them who's boss. Give them too much personal freedom and they'll just get too bolshy to do a proper day's work.

Believe it or not, I've only possessed one suit in my entire working life! I've spent most of that time in bookshops where just about anything goes clotheswise. I could have worn a gorilla suit and it wouldn't have stopped Harry Potter flying off the shelves.

In fact the female staff would often wear eye-wateringly short skirts and low-cut tops, and the only effect on trade was a marked increase in the number of goggle-eyed middle-aged men buying unlikely titles from Fiona or Natalie.

And it wasn't just lack of ambition that made me opt out of management - it was more the awful thought of the obligatory white shirt, sombre tie and neatly-pressed suit. To my mind, not so much high-flying executive as slicked-up ticket tout. Thanks but no thanks.