We haven't been able to take payment
You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Act now to keep your subscription
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Your subscription is due to terminate
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account, otherwise your subscription will terminate.

Chart your course for the summer sales

Extremely cheap high-street clothes (hey, £5 for a dress) are changing the way that we shop for a bargain

UNLESS you lead an exceptionally sheltered life you will have spotted that the time for being bombarded and harangued, cajoled and enticed is once more upon us. Hastily run up placards on all sides, heaving crowds everywhere and the constant risk of tense nervous headaches. It’s like being on a double date with Bono and Geldof. Except it’s the sales.

When it comes to the sales, a plan of attack is advisable. Some seasons the best strategy is complete avoidance. This isn’t one of those seasons. The slowdown in retail sales means that there’s a lot of stock on the high street and even more resolve to shift it. The disciplined focus on boho means that if you haven’t yet keyed into it, but would like too, then there’s still plenty of flounce out there for your pocket money.

And I do mean pocket money. Cute dresses for as little as £4.99 in Hennes, natty military jackets for £9.99 in Primark. Heaven knows how they do it and at some point it may all implode but, in the meantime, this is the week to get your summer wardrobe sorted, if you haven’t already.

For better or worse, rock bottom prices are changing the way we shop. Sales used to be the time for splashing out on investment buys, the kind of luxuries you couldn’t usually afford. Now, by and large, they’re for indulging in disposable fripperies. Affordability has turned us all into consumers of high fashion. I can’t recall a summer when the catwalk look has been so comprehensively re-created on so many women of all ages.

Incidentally, you could do worse than a cute dress and a military jacket (the latter will be on its last legs by autumn, so don’t splash out on an expensive one), a pile of T-shirts, some embellished skirts, chunky beads and bangles. A pair of metallic sandals are also a safe bet (but don’t bother with the sequined Clark’s ones featured on these pages last week for £24.99. They’ve sold out everywhere and are now changing hands on eBay for up to £83. Has everyone taken leave of their senses?) The point is that you can be as frivolous as you want on the high street at these prices. This stuff isn’t built to last, and after you see the holiday photographs, you probably won’t want it to.

Advertisement

The story at the designer end of the market is the flip side of the same coin: what’s left is not Himalayas of sensible lightweight knits but what the industry calls “campaign pieces”, in other words, those items chosen by designers to star in their advertising.

A fleeting scan round Harvey Nichols revealed the following hot tickets: Roland Mouret’s pink strapless dress that starred in his catwalk show and scores of magazine and newspaper editorials, reduced from £1,350 to £670; Lanvin’s chiffon pleated dress, similar to the halterneck worn by Natalie Portman at the Oscars, reduced from £1,580 to £790; Martin Grant’s lemon yellow slip dress; down from £505 to £300; Lanvin’s brocade coat, was £1,450, now £710 — you get the drift.

Something odd is going on. Campaign pieces used to be the ones with ludicrously long waiting lists. Either the economy is in a much worse state than even Gordon Brown’s detractors allow, or the customer is finally realising that while Steven Meisel, 24 bulldog clips and a fortnight’s worth of airbrushing can make just about anything look amazing on Karen Elson, it won’t necessarily work in the harsh light of reality.

“I think we may finally be seeing a mighty kick against ubiquity,” says Richard Grey, spokesman for Harvey Nichols. “The lust for the ‘it’ piece, that has been on dozens of celebrities months before it even hits the shops, is much harder to predict. Sophisticated shoppers are going for quieter pieces.”

Grey is quick to point out that business has been brisk at Harvey Nichols, “but women are buying differently. We’ve sold masses of Balenciaga, pre-sale, but it is the classic pieces that have gone, the kind you can wear year after year — and the naval jackets are in the sale. They may not get much wear out of them this season. But if they get a bargain-statement piece they don’t mind. Especially as they may be buying something that turns out to be an heirloom.

Advertisement

PITCHING CAMP

UNFATHOMABLY, camping is showing every sign of becoming chic, albeit in a perverse kind of way. Somme-like quantities of mud and the promise of bumping into Gwyneth Paltrow or Kate Moss by the floating Portaloos has brought a whole new frisson to communing with nature.

As is usually the way in life, the reality is less glamorous. The last time I went camping Brown Owl

made me clean out the latrines. I made some less than complimentary observations under my breath and the whole venture ended rather badly.

But folk won’t be told. Tent pitching in a field is now rivalling villa hopping in Ibiza for fashionablity.

Advertisement

Suddenly it’s hard to find a plastic plate, waterproof rucksack, enamel mug or nylon tent that hasn’t been the subject of lavish designer care and attention.

Whether the kind of people who enjoy sleeping under the stars while being slowly ingested by small, noisy insects with a hygiene problem will find the experience any more engaging because it now involves Cath Kidston florals is debatable. Equally challenging is the theory that the kind of people whose idea of hardship is having to make do with Molton Brown toiletries in the hotel bathroom instead of Jo Malone will be tempted towards dunny life by the lure of a Pucci flask. But throw in a Paul Smith rucksack and some Marimekko sheets and who knows?

()

BERMUDAS REVISITED

THE last time a bunch of fashionistas embraced boho chic they found themselves with a front-row seat under the guillotine — harsh, even by Trinny and Susannah’s standards. Two centuries later with the entire country seemingly in thrall to smocks and flounces, might it not be time to move on to something a little more original? The tailored Bermuda might sound like an abomination but taken singly, so do the words

Advertisement

Brad and Pitt. Worn properly, tailored Bermudas are fresh, chic and a welcome change from the collective Sienna madness that has gripped our land.

Tailored Bermudas were a key trend on the catwalks but have, until now, been overshadowed, literally, by trailing layers of cheesecloth. Now they’re coming up on the inside track as women realise how cool (in both senses), neat and surprisingly demure they can look — far more ladylike than miniskirts and infinitely more versatile than hot pants. See Kate Bosworth and Katie Holmes (right) for how it’s done.

Two of the best proponents of the tailored Bermuda were Diane Von Furstenberg and Luella — maybe it’s the New York influence, under which the illusion that droopy cotton is chic rapidly evaporates. These Bermudas are crisp as a freshly minted bank note, and just as appealing, with slightly flared or straight but never tapered legs.

Wear them with a belt, to accentuate the waist, heels to elongate legs and treat the top half of your outfit as you would if you were wearing a skirt, ie, prim blouses and fitted jackets — and, unless you’re a beanpole, avoid white and patterns.

Best on the high street

Advertisement