They say suits can make you more focused so I wore one every day to revise

I felt a surge of untapped knowledge heaving through my brain

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Being a twat has real results.

Last week, the Daily Mail said wearing a sharp, smarmy, Don Draper suit to work can transform you into an abstract thinking demi-god.

They told me wearing a crisp-cut suit could make you focus on the bigger picture instead of minor details, perfect for revision.

Always on the lookout for an unfair advantage, I decided to see if wearing a suit to campus for a week could help salvage my failing grades and turn me into the laser-focused, revision-crushing student dynamo my parents had always hoped I’d be.

After waiting for my favourite cuts to get back from the dry cleaner, and steeling myself for some immense ridicule on behalf of my friends, I suited up, snapped a few selfies in the mirror and went on my way.



Settling down to work is a little difficult when you feel so conspicuous, but I had faith in what the Mail told me. Before too long, I was ignoring the looks and confronting a pile of unlearned course material before me.


The difference was instantaneous. I felt a surge of untapped knowledge heaving through my brain as my last year of unmemorable seminars suddenly came into crystal clear recollection.


Every lecture I’d stumbled into still drunk from the night before and quietly fallen asleep in the back of came back to me with frightening lucidity. It was as if I had my lecturer standing in the library with me, bellowing his thoughts and theses into my ear faster than I could type with all the vehemence of a man whose trousers are on fire.


I finished my days’ work three hours later and headed home to do fuck all. The success of the day was only slightly besmirched on the way back when someone asked me if I was an estate agent.




Eager to see if the power of the suit was transferable to the high-pressure seminar environment, I approached campus on Tuesday morning in a state of great excitement, taking a few more selfies for good measure.

There was a lot of this.

There was a lot of this

Once again, I found the suit was working. Seminar tutors who I was used to tuning out in favour of assessing the attractiveness of my coursemates now held my attention as if flexing a vice-grip around my balls. Every word made sense, I could even get on board with the usually insipid waffling of my fellow Lit students. I felt transformed from a grouchy taciturn prick into someone with useful, affirmative things to say. I was adding to the seminar, because my clothes were adding to me.

I enjoyed the experience enough to invite my seminar tutor to join me in a suit-selfie afterwards. They declined.

Whatever mate.

Whatever mate


At the midpoint on the journey of suit wearing, I noticed something rather unexpected happening.

Other citizens of the library had ceased to stare or tweak their eyebrows at me as I walked to and from the bathroom. And, with a creeping smugness, I began to suspect they were admiring how prolific I had been in my week so far.

Focused AF.

Focused AF

People had started to respect it. And as I settled down for another few hours revision I began to cautiously compare myself to Bradley Cooper in the film LimitlessOnly with slightly better tailoring.

Prolific for days

Prolific for days

Could all this success really be the result of a slight change in attire? I suppose the answer depends on how gullible you are.


The next day had the biggest surprise in store.

My day of revision started as usual. Thinking outside the box, seeing the bigger picture, remaining impervious to criticism, just as the Mail predicted.


Until I noticed others began appearing, dressed just like me. A colony of suits and ties and office-skirts had replaced the typically punky, bohemian garms of the library folk.

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Everyone’s shoes were shiny, and they were all sitting up straight. Lunch with my peers turned from an informal half hour of procrastination into a stylish, Apprentice-like power brokers’ affair.

We kept using words like ‘synergy’ and ‘meld’

Needless to say, we were at each other’s throats before the day was over. One Library Steward came by insisting we refer to him as Lord Sugar and we decided our team name would be Pfister.

Still a productive one, though.


As my week of looking and acting like a self-righteous knob came to an end, I had time to reflect on what I had learned.


Does looking like you’re important make you feel important?

Yes. And it makes you act important. You will start to refer to your friends as “team” and speak down to absolutely everyone.

Does feeling important make you productive?

Yes. Well. At least it makes you feel productive. Because you’re so important. And how can such a snazzy and important person as you not be productive? Since feeling like you’re being productive is all that matters. Wearing a suit = being productive.



Should you believe everything you read in the Daily Mail?

Hell yes. My experience this week has demonstrated the Daily Mail publishes nothing but incontrovertible truths and scrupulously researched statistics.

Smarten up to study and the possibilities are endless. You may get derisory looks, you may sweat and puff in the triple bondage of your collar, necktie and lapels, you may even begin to hate yourself a few days in, but the results are real.

Kind of.

Kind of

As exams approach and each of us becomes increasingly desperate for ways to distract ourselves, suiting up is at very least worth a try. Look amazing. Feel amazing. Be amazing. Amaze.

It could change your life. But it probably won’t.