Michael Kellyisn't crazy about buying clothes. Will a personal shopper be able to help him - and, overleaf, how do other men use the service?
A couple of months ago I wrote about a personal-shopping experience that Mrs Kelly had at Harvey Nichols. I was giving out about my stereotypical role that day, sitting outside the changingroom in the classic man-shops-with-missus pose, and wondering why the personal shopper didn't turn her expertise towards my questionable sense of style. So Harvey Nichols got in touch and arranged an appointment with the head of personal shopping at its Dundrum store, Sueanne O'Leary.
Men represent a meagre one in 10 of Harvey Nichols's personal-shopping customers, which it thinks it can change. We don't like shopping, but when we do go we tend to stealth-shop, and this makes us a desirable market segment. We point at clothes that look half-decent, then hand over the plastic, hoping to overhaul our entire wardrobe in 10 minutes. We are a retailer's dream. "Women like shopping," says O'Leary, "whereas men are there to buy. A woman might say to me: 'Yes, this is nice. Can you hold it for me until next week?' Men are far more decisive." Ka-ching goes the till.
Apparently, the role that wives and girlfriends play in the male shopping experience dents our fragile egos and pushes us into the arms of the personal shopper. Well, maybe not the arms, but . . . Oh, you know what I mean. "Wives and girlfriends are very direct. They will say: 'What the hell are you wearing that jumper for?' Men hate that. I try to be more subtle," says O'Leary.
Then there's privacy. With personal shopping you don't have to come out of the changingroom and turn around so your other half can check if your backside looks good in those jeans - in full view of all the other waiting Wags. If an item is the wrong size the personal shopper will bring you the right one - you don't have to get dressed, head out to the rails, find the right size and queue for the changingrooms all over again.
Harvey Nichols's elegant personal-shopping suite contains a large plasma television showing The Untouchables, which sets a suitably macho vibe. I imagine myself at the local Italian tailor, being fitted for a suit, fedora and monogrammed socks. O'Leary goes through some basics: what size I take in shirts, jackets, trousers and shoes; any designers I particularly like or dislike; favourite colours and fabrics.
A few minutes later she has stocked the changingroom and is talking me through a rack of clothes. Nice jeans here, cool T-shirt there. A pair of shorts. Interesting. Some white linen pants. Wait a minute: white linen pants? I wouldn't wear them if they were the only trousers left in the universe. "You have to go outside your comfort zone," O'Leary says, encouragingly. Worryingly, she adds that I could couple them with a black singlet - which might look good on a guy with big arms and some tattoos but will make me look like the guy from the Mr Muscle ad.
There's a grey cardigan that I'm told I can wear during the day over a T-shirt for a chic, informal look or pair with a skinny tie, smart trousers and formal shoes for an effortlessly stylish evening look. But I'm thinking Grandpa Simpson. "I know just the thing to set that off," O'Leary exclaims at one point, and she hurries off, returning with a pair of rosary beads and a navy silk scarf. David Beckham, eat your heart out. I discover with some disappointment that a black leather jacket I really like costs €850. Next up is a plain black woollen V-neck jumper. I look at the label. It's an Alexander McQueen cashmere sweater, also priced at €850. It must be a plant, because all of a sudden the black leather jacket is looking like really good value.
I look at my watch and realise I've been trying on outfits for two hours. Even clothes I'd never wear are fun to try on. I feel bad that O'Leary has put in all this work, so I pick three things almost at random and try not to look horrified when the bill exceeds €500. I've got two snazzy shirts - one of which is the first designer item I've ever owned - and a belt. Should have got that leather jacket.
EMMET O'BRIEN, RACING DRIVER
The 26-year-old Dubliner is the first Irishman in the World Touring Car Championship, racing a 300bhp Seat Leon around some of the world's most famous circuits. "I know it sounds glamorous," he says, "but it's very hard work. I train six days a week and spend most of my time in airports."
O'Brien, who is the youngest driver in the championship, is keen to make an impression. Being well dressed helps. "I never go anywhere unless I am looking smart. I have to raise €500,000 in sponsorship each season, so that means having a good sponsor on board. If I go to a meeting looking scruffy they are thinking: 'This guy is representing us. What were we thinking?' "
Does he have his own sense of style? "I know what I like and what I don't like. I don't have to work too hard. Does that sound cocky?" he asks, looking worried. "I'm fairly casual in my look: mainly jeans, a sharp shirt and a suit jacket. I don't have to wear suits often, but if I do it's with an open-necked shirt, no tie."
He's not concerned by the cost of designer labels. "If you want good clothing you pay for it. I don't shop all that often, but when I do I will spend a few bob, and it's great to come in here, where people know me. I think there is an element of men needing the opinion of a woman when it comes to shopping."
O'Brien's ambition is to land a world championship within three or four years, but he doesn't target Formula 1 as his next step. "It's boring. Touring cars are far more exciting. There's lots of bumping and barging. There's a real purity to it."
BAZ ASHMAWY, TELEVISION PRESENTER
Life is pretty good for Baz Ashmawy. As a presenter of How Low Can You Go?, RTÉ's alternative travel show, he gets to see the world and have the craic at the same time. The Libyan-born Irish-Egyptian - "You don't get that too often" - uses the personal-shopping service at Harvey Nichols three or four times a year. "I don't sit around in Armani pyjamas at home, but I do spend a few bob on clothes. Personal shopping's not the butchest thing in the world, is it?"
Perhaps not. But then again there's also something vaguely James Bond about having a personal shopper. "I know what you mean: it's nice to get a good-looking girl's opinion. But her opinion means more to me because it's her job and she's very good at what she does. She doesn't feed me crap about looking great in stuff if I don't. It can be daunting for men to walk into Harvey Nics, whereas with this service you don't feel rushed or pressurised."
Ashmawy, whose favourite designers include Alexander McQueen, True Religion and Elvis Jesus, adds: "The only thing worse than buying designer clothes is buying them and not wearing them, so it's good to get affirmation before you buy. I spent three hours here one day and ended up buying a hoodie and jeans, and I was apologising for wasting her time. Other days I could spend a couple of grand." The forth series of How Low Can You Go? will see Ashmawy and his co-hosts, Mark O'Neill and Michael Hayes, travel across the US. In the long term he is interested in stand-up comedy. "I don't think people who know me from the show would find me credible as a serious actor. They'd be saying: 'Sure, that's just Baz.' "
MARK QUINN, PR EXECUTIVE
The 31-year-old from Corofin in Co Clare, who has lived in London for 11 years, worked freelance in marketing before establishing a PR company last year. He draws many of his clients from the fashion industry, so being stylish is part of the job. "You have to be aware of what's going on in the business and know the brands, so I have to take a keen interest in fashion."
Encouraged to try out personal shopping by a colleague, he was sceptical at first but now uses the service regularly. "I can never understand why more men don't use these services. If I tell friends about it, they will say: "How much does it cost?" And: "How much do you have to spend?" They can't believe it when I say: 'Nothing and nothing.' "
Quinn uses the service in Dundrum and London. "I love that they know what I like. I get a phone call from them, saying that they have a suit I might like. I don't think men are interested in shopping, so it's good that they know what you're comfortable with.
"People in business are more relaxed now, and the line between casual and formal is more blurred. It's not quite jeans and T-shirt, but work clothes are definitely more casual. I wear McQueen and Thom Browne a bit, and J Lindeberg is another favourite. I like mixing designer with cheaper stuff, so that I'm not head to toe in labels."