Burberry x bootcut

A couple of weeks ago I was at my local station when I happened across a young lady in Burberry (‘Burberry’ is probably more accurate) check bootcut trousers. Obviously my initial reaction was to tweet about it to my fashion pals and I was kind of surprised by the all out negative response. The gal in question was a Goldsmiths student as far as I could tell and she was hanging with a bunch of equally stylish folk. She was wearing said trousers with a massive black fur coat and killer shoes and fierce hair and, ironic as she may have meant it, she looked incredible.

The problem my pals had wasn’t, evidently, the Burberry check. I think the check has now come full circle and us now totally acceptable, even if it is in an ‘ironic’ way. Like how it’s ok to wear a comedy 80s faux Chanel sweater or to lust after a Galvin Klein tshirt, as I am right now after Charleen at work told me about her brother’s unfortunate 90s buy. The check is fine. The problem is bootcut. How weird is that?

The whole reason bootcut became popular in the first place is because it’s wearable and flattering. It’s such an immense rarity in fashion that something cool is flattering to your average size 16 woman in Sheffield. Bootcut looks nice and everyone can carry it off. Deal! When I was tweeting and getting a negative reaction, my pals just grossed out at the bootcut, nuthin else. Believe me I get it. Amongst my friends, ‘bootcut’ is short hand for ‘bad’. If you’re talking about a girl in your office that’s alright but that you’d never go on holiday with, you could just be like, ‘she wears bootcut trousers from Morgan’ and all would be understood. Don’t quite know the point I’m aiming for but maybe… don’t hate on bootcut. The night I saw this chick, NY Fashion Week was just winding up and we’d seen loads of softly flared pants, skimming gently over a nice pair of ankle boots. Right now Paris is winding up and I’ve already seen bootcut cargo pants so… by the looks of things, anything could happen.

I wish I had a picture of this girl. I wish there was a point to this post! I guess if there is one, it’s give bootcut a chance. Maybe? I can’t see me wearing it but I’ll try not to judge. Here’s a nice pic of Gemma Ward rocking Burberry and a dog, I guess that’ll do.


Freezing in those clothes

Like the entire rest of the planet (apart from my mate Chris who went to make a round of tea and missed it), I spent yesterday afternoon watching the Burberry live stream. It was, as you know, spectacular. I want every single coat and every pair of shoes, even though a lot of the models seemed to have real issues walking in them. Mmm, sheepy. Nice to see our lad Chris representing his West Yorkshire roots. All he needs now is a trip to Denholme Velvet and we’re all set for a reunion. I loved that the coats had such great detailing: the straps on the wrists, the New Rock-esque detailing on the boots, the zip-off portions…  All got me thinking that I need a trip back up to Sheffield to head to my favourite secondhand shop. They always have the strongest coats, usually barely worn, always from old dudes on country estates.

Saint Martins is always a right old adventure, but this time around only one student caught my eye to the extent I want to write about it. I know you’ll have read more indepth reports elsewhere so I’ll leave it at this. The marvellously-monikered Rok Hwang won the L’Oreal Professionnel award (ive grand and a rosy glow) for what Vogue called (titter, wait for it) ‘his literally star-studded collection’. SNORT! Obviously I enjoy the maxi length and the jersey, but I also love those rounded off shoulders and the lovely taupe/chocolate/navy palette. Oh, and the intergalactic plastic constellations were neat too.

Just a word on Daks. I’ll take this whole look. I saw a lady in quilted trousers and Moncler jacket at Old Street the other day. A fine look indeed.