(See what we did there? Like the love child of ‘Got milk’ and ‘You’ve been tangoed’)
Laura Reynolds looks at the hype surrounding the collaboration.
Just a week to go until the man in red arrives...
Buying clothes has always been difficult, and buying jeans and trousers has always been a nightmare. I am five foot two (if that!), and back when I was at school, I was a teeny size six (if that!). No shop seemed to however stock a petite size that was actually long enough (this was back when ankle-skimming was seen as terribly uncool).
Apparently for someone so short I had “long legs”, a concept which well suited mini-skirts, though one which became quite redundant when I walked into university and was confronted with a worrying herd of girls all over five foot seven.
So I was understandably worried when, last year, I read the headline ‘the trouser is back’. I am, predominately, a skirt or dress girl – mainly because of the difficulties with finding a decent pair of trousers. However, at the beginning of last term I bit the bullet and invested in a pair of Levi’s Curve ID (they are brilliant, I absolutely recommend!). But this bubbling undercurrent of ‘new’ (new for the season, though I swear they were ‘new’ last season too, and the one before it) trouser lengths and styles was something I skated around the outside of. The fashion world does seem to cater singularly for the models that sail down its catwalks: six foot boyish framed passive-faced mannequins. Clearly anyone outside of that cut is ignored.
This year, the high-street shops (I am a student, I don’t pretend otherwise, though do I prance around Sarah Coggles and wish) are flooded with an alarming series of trousers. Granted every year there are alarming series of trousers, I am quite used to the fear of whether to dare try. Last year I greeted the harem with the obligatory look of terror (who beyond an Arab Sheikh pulls this off?) as I didn’t particularly enjoy the vision of being labelled “MC Hammer”.
I like a decent trouser – no ankle-skimmers, no pedal-pushers, thank you. Visions of being a gawky pre-teen are dragged from the depths of my mortified memory. However I was affronted with a new problem: I love this season’s colour scheme, the terracottas, bricks and rusts bandying around. And of course Topshop do that horrible thing they do: my ideal colour in my nightmare pair of trousers.
I won’t get on the bandwagon of the palazzo pants: I do not wish to look like a clown. Not really what I’m going for. However the tapered leg look was one that could be feasibly attacked. After all, they were in the petite section – obviously, it was meant to be! And while I did man up and buy them, they still come with a price: namely the soles of my feet. For, as with every outfit I assemble, it comes as a prerequisite that I must wear heels. Already I am a dwarf: I don’t want to be reduced to hobbit standards, swamped in proper sized clothes. And so I did join the new age of trouser – and they are pretty damn comfy, if not for my feet.
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