Holland Cooper: 'Tweed with a Twist'

As Autumn/Winter 10 finally makes its way into our wardrobes, we see an infusion of bramble tones seep onto the hanging rail. Light linens are swept aside and replaced by cashmere and cable knits, whilst the. lorded over Chanel-esque clogs are kicked to the corner to make way for thigh-high leather wonders. As we prepare our armoires for the first glittering morning dews of the fall, we must make special place for this season’s essential. Tweed. No we’re not talking the matronly cuts of old; the jackets seemingly tailored for squat buxom little beings, the skirts that give even the most waif-like figure the illusion of hips you could fly with. No, this season’s tweed fits perfectly over the 50s curves of the moment. Of course designers such as Paul Smith and Ralph Lauren have already sent their tawny creations down the catwalks, but for a young, fresh take on the country tradition, look to new name Holland-Cooper.

Dubbed by its creator as ‘tweed with a twist’ Holland Cooper takes the textile and goes to town with it in a number of designs. Jackets create a long, elegant silhouette with Dandy-esque collars and synched in waists, whilst with the skirts offer a choice between sultry straight minis or more girly-fied ra-ras. Holland Cooper’s sophisticated collection evokes images of country house parties and Gatsby-esque glamour. Cheeky cuts and shocking pink trims give the line a pouting youthful edge.
For the all-out look team a skirt with a crisp white shirt, an über-fitted jacket and devastatingly kholed eyes.Alternatively use a single piece to spice up an outfit; try matching a pair of shorts (bottom hugging enough to redden the cheeks of any Hooray-Henry!) with a long classic knit cardigan, knee-socks and Hunters. Add a dash of sex-kitten bed hair and you’re all set to catch the eye of that country-weekend beau!

Holland Cooper Clothing injects a sassiness never before associated with tweed. It is the perfect blossoming brand to kick your wardrobe towards Autumn/Winter 2010. For more information, and for the full collection, visit www.hollandcooper.com.

All I Want Is A Room Somewhere....

Now most will assume that house hunting in London makes no particular demands upon one’s attire. Wrong. Here’s why. Firstly, the mere fact that you look good might well be your saving grace when it seems there is no hope left in the world. You see, the emotions surrounding a day of property searching in the big city can be summed up in a simple schedule. Early morning - excitedly clutching Starbucks buys and eager as a puppy to snap up your dream city pad. Late morning - slightly knocked, Starbucks cups empty and anti-bac gelling your hands in case you caught anything from those grotty ex-local authority abodes. Lunchtime - sitting down for sustenance, attempting to buoy one another with ‘it can only get better’ type reassurances. Early afternoon - reality hits. There is zilch on the market. The shiny future home does not exist and all estate agents are greasy dream-killers. Evening - why move to London at all?! A commute of two hours is nothing right?! Oh yes. Believe it. Rent shopping in London, not the most glamorous of days.


But there are things that can be done to improve the matter. Dress appropriately. Fashion yourself as you would fashion your ideal property. Now I don’t mean arriving with a lampshade on your head and a curtain sash round your waist. If you want a sophisticated maisonette, dress to match. One ‘London-lad’ estate agent summed up the scenario surprisingly succinctly. As my friends and I sat the other side of his desk he reclined back cockily and said ‘Look ladies, I appreciate what you’re after’. (This is after we flatly refused to see any more Shameless-esque blocks). ‘You’re blatantly Mulberry bag girls, so I ‘aint gonna whack out any Topshop knock-offs’. (Actually his first analogy was between Kappa and an apparently up-market Addidas brand, but at our bemused faces he quickly adapted).


Your best bag is an necessity. Secondly, flats are a must. Traipsing around London, on and off the tube is frankly exhausting enough without having to factor in blistered toes and rubbed heels. And needless to say, never be without your makeup. The odd weeping session and pulling out of hair will make a coffee-shop loo revamp essential. If you sign on the dotted line at the end of the first day of viewing, congrats on the miracle. Most will have to endure at least another day’s distress, and will possibly be on the verge of summoning Kirsty and Phil to arms after the third. The property market’s an unkind place, but it can be sweetened a little with sugary snacks, a power bag and a good dose of spoilt-brat stubbornness. Keira, Sienna and Alexa made it through and so will we. Bonne chance mes cheries! See you in the city.

Trend Report: The Naughty Debutante

No one present at the Autumn/Winter 2010 shows could have failed to notice the high density of tweed, knits and leather that made its way down the runway. Striding visions of mottled greys and warm auburns evoked images of country getaways and fireside evenings. The British heritage influence was everywhere.

Paul Smith peppered his collection with flat caps, knee-high socks and billowing capes and identified his fall girl as the ‘naughty debutante’. He imagines the girlish charm of a bygone era flavoured with a sexed-up mischief. The heroine’s country pursuits go further than petting her pony. Smith’s corset tops cloaked in tweed capes and cotton shirts speak of a secret wantonness. Think Kate Middleton flashing a garter through the slit of a wool skirt.

Country influences are transformed into something vampish this season. Designers have a Jilly Cooper-esque edge. They take the quaint sophistication of British heritage and inject a youthful glamour.

Jimmy Choo’s reworking of the Hunter Wellington Boot is no exception. Choo takes the country staple and reinvents it as a glossy black vision in crocodile. The design is the object of a waiting list more suited to a limited edition heel. New-age debutantes Mary-Kate Olsen and Peaches Geldoff were among the first to sport the boot and an eager crowd is following in their rubber-clad footsteps.

Likewise the reputable Barbour undergoes a revamp which looks set to catapult it from country practicality to fashion splendour. We have already seen Lily Allen and Alexa Chung hitting the streets in their waxed wonders, and the fall collections’ pursuit of British country style means the brand’s progress is likely to continue.

The genius of the upcoming season lies in its subtle cheek. A youthful flicker of femininity entices from beneath heavy tweeds and slouched knits. The debutante is back. But gone are those prim pretences. We see her emerge reapplying lipstick kissed off by a would-be suitor. She hides Gauloises in her clutch and spikes the punch at the hunt ball. She’s the girl we want to be. So get to it. Synch in those waists, pull knitted socks over the knee and fly the flag for our British heroine.

How Do I Look?

When I asked my sister how she would describe me her answer was suitably concise. ‘Pretty and sweet’. I mulled this over. Did I want to be pretty and sweet? You never hear a successful business woman described as ‘sweet’, or a delicious sex goddess described as ‘pretty’. They seemed terms best suited to the pigtailed girl of a nursery rhyme. I did don some pigtails recently, though they were less Lucy Locket, more Pixie Lott I hope.

At school I was a regular little drama queen, the infuriating type that would be cast in a main role before auditions had even begun. Yet the ‘pretty and sweet’ image meant that I was always chosen for the part of the simpering heroine. As I swooned my way across the stage I would look on enviously as another girl delivered a witty monologue to the tittering audience.

My signature style is very feminine. I am what you might describe as a ‘girly girl’. I tend towards paler colours. The shades of this season’s collections; the sorbet hues of Burberry and the ever-sophisticated nudes of Chloé, fit beautifully into my favoured palette and I’ll be almost sorry to see Autumn/Winter 2010 sweep them away.

Maybe I should start wearing black. It might make the transition easier. It’s not that I consciously exclude the colour from my wardrobe, it makes the odd appearance in shoes, bags and belts. But black never dominates an outfit for me. Perhaps this is where I’m going wrong. It’s virtually impossible to walk down a city street without seeing a girl sashaying along in the prerequisite LBD. They exude an effortless confidence and togetherness, and could quite easily be the successful career women and delicious sex goddesses of the world.

Yet I never feel quite myself in black. Every girl knows of that odd occasion when you try on an outfit, look in the mirror and something isn’t quite right. It’s hard to pinpoint, but often comes down to the fact that the clothes feel more like a costume than yourself.

I’m not edgy in any sense of the word. As a young girl I was swathed in Laura Ashley and over time the busy floral patterns have faded away leaving a love of simple cotton silhouettes. The terms ‘pretty and sweet’ have that same girlish youthfulness about them that continues to influence my fashion choices and personal style. It is always irritating to admit your sister was right.

Photographer,India Hobson.

Style Spot: Margiela Maiden

The Maison Martin Margiela exhibition at Somerset House provided a number of wonders to behold. Yet it was a petite shadow clicking across the first display room that initially caught my eye. I turned my head subtly and clocked a casual yet sophisticated combination. The slouched shirt was the first to draw my attention. A boyfriend fit that draped elegantly off one shoulder. Stella McCartney sent a similar silhouette down the runway in her Spring 2010 collection, with minimal collar structure and loose shoulder tailoring.

Below the shirt’s hem emerged a pair of enviably slim black legging-clad legs. Burberry Prorsum, Helmut Lang and Stella McCartney have all subscribed to the black skin-tight phenomenon but for something a little different try alternative textures (see the flattering ribbing of Fake London’s line) or close the gap to ‘utility’ with J-Brand style cargo skinnies. The below-derriere shirt length makes clinging trousers a whole lot less intimidating, and the outfit infinitely wearable.


Having started with a simple polished base, our lady added glamour to her look in a matter of four items. Firstly her hair. Back-combed softly into a Bardot-esque half-up do, the rest of her locks flowed down her back, a caramel gold waterfall of un-split ends. There were no flashy pins or silk flowers to be seen. The coiffe was simple sophistication at its best.

Next we come to her décolletage. She fashioned the latest trend for bold geometry in her necklace. See Holly Fulton for 20s outlines and Giorgio Armani Prive for an Art Deco edge. The deliberate structure of such bold accessories lifts an outfit from can’t-be-bothered-casual to effortless panache.

Her bag was a vision of khaki leather hanging genteelly off one shoulder . With a rise in ‘utility’and ‘military’ trends this fall, tracking down those camouflage tones won’t be a problem. Look to Chloé, Stella McCartney and Tila March for olive green inspiration.

Rounding off the look were a clickety pair of heeled brogues. Though evidently swept off a shop floor within no more than a couple of weeks, the shoes added vintage flavour. This men’s footwear classic has seen a rise in popularity over the last year, and it was only a matter of time before it made its way into women’s designs. Heeled brogues have been given a flying start by Dolce & Gabbana and have already made their way into numerous high-street ranges.

The outfit combines this season’s fashions and forthcoming fall trends in a cool and elegant arrangement. Bravo Margiela Maiden.

Martin Margiela: Deconstructing Fashion's Silhouette

In the 1980s Martin Margiela led the deconstructionist movement to the forefront of fashion culture. His ripped hems and exposed re-stitching sat defiantly alongside the clean lines of Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein. Margiela grasped at the perceived ideal of fashion and literally pulled it apart at the seams.

The ‘Artisanal Collection’ is a succinct illustration of Maison Martin Margiela’s central ethos. The original form of the item is eradicated in a matter of rips and stitches, and the fabric is reborn as an enlivened vision of its former self. Something of a reincarnation occurs. Yet in Margiela’s finished garment there is always a flicker of the original form; a tailored line remains, a button keeps its place. This nostalgia prevents Margiela’s deconstruction from being absolute.

From Maison Martin Margiela’s first collection in 1989 the trench coat a prominent feature. However the renovation is more subtle than you might expect, especially from a designer whose iconic pieces resemble a stylish accident with packing tape. Each design can be synched in traditionally at the waist, the belt looped casually into a tie. Upon closer inspection you identify shoulders that resemble seat covers, epaulets too large to be in proportion, a turned up collar high enough to be used as a hood. Here Margiela takes a garment surrounded by assumptions and subtly undermines them. This is of course emblematic of how Margiela treats fashion as a whole.


The biggest part of fashion is identity. Margiela crafts against this preconception. He refuses to reveal himself in writing, in appearance. Models parade along the run way, eyes masked by that notorious black band. The draped fabrics of Margiela blur the structures of traditional silhouettes and in ‘A Doll’s Wardrobe’ collection his play in proportions achieves an almost imperceptible distortion.

It is not enough to describe Margiela as a deconstructionist. He doesn’t just take apart but puts back together. The result is a collection of questions posed at fashion, identity and you.

The Lady Who Won't Turn Around

Lindbergh’s photograph includes everything he is famed for. The supermodel, the desert landscape and the black and white hues are all present. But there is something different, something awkward and unnerving that sets it apart from his other work.

Guided by Lindbergh’s lens we approach as voyeurs towards the scene. We don’t want to be here. A heat makes us uncomfortable. Dusty rock faces fence us in and we are surrounded by thirsty plants too withered to provide shade.

A cool vision of ethereal femininity is our only relief. A silver shine down the back of deeply bronzed legs laughs derisively at our sweating upper lips and we are advised in no uncertain terms, if you can’t stand it, leave. But we stay, captured by the enigma of the spectacle.

An aura of determination surrounds the woman before us. A dry breeze whips at her hair and skirts. Ignoring the elements that work against her, she continues to peg. She traps the clothes calmly and methodically.

The contrast of pearlescent whites and soft ruffles against the barren landscape creates an uneasy beauty. The garments appear enlivened and anxious to depart. They strain away from their fetters in desperation. Yet the silent heroine refuses their release. She casually adds peg after peg in almost cruel nonchalance.

A gap in the middle of her progress allows us a glimpse into the distance. A wire hanger swings pathetically in the opening. Seemingly useless in its fragility, it hangs there snubbed by its mistress.

Behind it the horizon opens up and the solitariness of the lady is magnified. Why is she here? Lindbergh implies her performance is more than a domestic chore. For one, the lady is not your typical housewife. Her hair may be teased into a homely 60s wave, but her attire is straight from the catwalk. Her bronzed beauty speaks less of the desert surrounding her and rather of a stint in the South of France. Who is she? She doesn’t turn around. She knows we’re here. It’s a deliberate act of arrogance. She’s trying to prove something. You will her to relax, to step back and let the breeze carry the innocent garments to kinder climbs. But her control is absolute and unwavering.

Lindbergh pictures a woman who is at once beautiful, capable and determined. She is evocative of the vampish supermodels of the 90s Lindbergh helped to create. Is she the new woman of the millennium? If she moved to face us maybe we could tell.

Instead we must retreat. Lindbergh reclines silently as we leave, our questions unanswered and minds still wondering, occasionally looking back at the lady who won’t turn around.

Peter Lindbergh for Vogue Italia, April 2001. Model, Trish Goff.