In Japan such clothing is called ‘one-mile wear’ and it’s a whole other wardrobe.

That is: Comfortable clothes that you can wear at home or within a one-mile radius of your home.

They look good enough for you to go out to Woollies and are comfortable enough for you to relax, but aren’t really statement pieces or anything ultra-stylish.

That might mean ‘don’t wear your dressing gown to town’ or, ‘anything goes’ in Kmart after midnight.

Last Monday public holiday I stretched the rule by allowing myself to nip out for bread and bagels in my version of the one-mile outfit (without a shower!).

What might have passed for “she looks like she’s just had a great shag” probably resembled: “Oh dear. Perhaps she’s a little eccentric ”.

Last Monday my pared-down mile wear was enhanced by frizzy bed hair, which women aged more than 55 will understand, a un-ironed and very crumpled white shirt and similarly distressed jeans and sunglasses with frames so bent they sat crooked on my face.

As I waited at the counter I observed, through my sunglasses, how well-dressed, carefully coiffed and quite deftly made-up, all the other customers appeared.

How did they do it?

And, importantly, why?

Then I remembered the one-mile wear concept: Casual but effortlessly stylish.

There are variations: One-mile wear in Cranbourne - flannelette pyjamas, ugh boots and a big sloppy cardigan - is probably not likely to be one-mile wear in Toorak where ‘casual’ means small diamonds, designer jeans and a carefully dishevelled cashmere sweater.

Notice, dear reader, how I safely nominated geography that is beyond Tasmania?

Heaven forbid I offend.

Let’s just say that the Launceston interpretation of one-mile wear is located somewhere between Cranbourne and Toorak.

Last week I read with Vogue interest a list of European fashion trends:

Two bags … Not under your eyes, but draped across your body.

Now you’ll never, ever be able to find your mobile phone in a hurry.

According to The Times all you have to do is imagine a high fashion donkey with multiple saddle bags and blame it on Chanel

The hem roll … not to be confused with the safety pin roll or the love handle roll, the hem roll is folding your hem up just enough to expose a tiny piece of your sexy little ankles.

The head to toe… wear the same colour head to toe because we can all afford to buy pink jumpers, pink jeans, pink boots and pink bags.

The trouser tuck!

I remember this from the ‘70s and apparently it’s been all the rage in Paris this spring. 

That is, you tuck your trousers into your knee-high boots.

So ‘70s. So wrong!

The double coat … just in time for Tassie winter. You wear a buttoned-up coat under a flowing trench coat. “Make your look sing!” Yep.

The jumper drape … another handy hint for this winter.

Evidently, it’s passé to drape your jumper over your shoulders or even tie it around your waist.

The idea is to use your jumper like a scarf.

The only benefit I can see would be to camouflage double chins?

Finally, the highly-slung bag.

I reckon this might only work for my flat-chested sisters because it involves hitching your handbag’s straps till the thing sits on your t..s.

Knock yourselves out.