I fought my love of the jumpsuit long and hard. I thought I had to. Wearing a jumpsuit was a politicised act, not to mention a grumpy one. Or at least it was when I first attired myself in one, dedicatedly, throughout my late teens and early twenties.
Thing is, manning the metaphorical barricades doesn’t get you very far on the front row. (Although grumpiness, alas, all too often does.) Jumpsuits were not glamorous, they were not feminine, they were not fashion. I considered them verboten. But I had to have a rethink when two of my most soignée acquaintances started wearing them a few years back. I still remember that first volte-face, at a breakfast meeting. My friend had bagged the hallowed corner table at Cecconi’s, despite the fact that she was wearing the default attire of Greenham Common woman.
Except she wasn’t, of course. She looked killer in expensively sculpted crepe. Here was a whole new world of jumpsuit. And it served as a reminder that I was overlooking an entirely separate school of all-in-one, redolent of va-va-voom Studio 54-ness rather than life in a muddy tent next to Yellow Gate.
Since then it’s become one of my favourite ways of dressing, the glam jumpsuit. Partly this is because the jumpsuit is, like a great dress, a one-stop shop: there’s none of that fuss about matching separates, plus, relatedly, its smooth lines flatter your bumps and skim your lumps.
The right jumpsuit can also be so youth-giving, whatever your age, size, shape. Lots of women in their forties or older I talk to aren’t keen on the idea, convinced that it won’t suit them. To which I say: “Try some on!” And to which they then later say: “OMG! You’re right!”
Advertisement
So where to buy? Whistles is always good, and has the navy culotte Jasmine style and an evening-appropriate black embroidered cutwork stunner (£220 and £280; whistles.com). Reiss’s black Rose style, with its plunge mesh-detail neck, is superlatively Halston-esque (£195; reiss.com), and French Connection’s red velvet Amber a more demure take on disco (£150; frenchconnection.com).
One of my favourites is Self-Portrait’s just-daring-enough black fil coupé version (£320; self-portrait-studio.com). At a whole other level, Roksanda’s knock-out white crepe spectacular – and ditto this scarlet beauty I am wearing by Roland Mouret – would be more than appropriate for any Bianca Jagger-style white horse moments you might be planning (£1,475; matchesfashion.com). Although it would be handy if you too had a rock star on hand to pick up the tab.