last updated: 13 June 2017 (approximate reading time: 2 minutes; 301 words)
The other day I was asked the question: Do you wear anything when you’re writing?
Clearly, there is an ambiguous angle to the question, so let me deal with that first. Yes, I wear clothes when I’m writing. But the question was less about whether I wear clothes, or otherwise, and more about whether I wear anything in particular.
And the short answer is that I don’t need anything—whether clothes, tools, décor, location, or otherwise—in order to write. I don’t need my lucky socks in order to summon the muse.
When it comes to dressing my main priorities are comfort and speed (and I should acknowledge that I’m basically a scruff). The comfort aspect should be obvious, but as far as speed goes, when I get up, I dress, make a cup of tea, and start working. I don’t want to spend time or expend brain power with decisions about clothes.
Integral to the notion of comfort is warmth. When I’m working I will spend hours sitting still—the only movement will be my fingers tapping on the keyboard. This near hibernation-like behavior with practically zero exercise does tend to reduce the flow of blood and mean that even on a warm day I can be cold, hence I dress warmer than a normal person might in any given climactic conditions.
The other factor that affects how I dress is my cat. He’s not a respectful individual and the notion of please don’t claw this and try not to leave your fur over that, doesn’t really feature in his considerations. Added to which, he’s not one to bother with trivialities like wiping his paws or drying himself when he comes in, so what I wear has to be easy to put in the washing machine.
And once dressed, I begin work.