It's time to banish the view that women can't care about Brexit and their new handbag

It's time to banish the view that women can't care about Brexit and their new handbag

Human Rights lawyer, Amal Clooney. CREDIT: REX

When you look at a picture of Emma Watson, does your mind instantly focus on the last speech she made about the theory of political, economic and social equality or can’t you see past that great new shade of lipstick she’s wearing? Do you see the with contempt for anyone who has ever commented on one of Watson’s red carpet looks, or think, “She’s definitely onto something when she questions how the fight for equality synonymous with man-hating… I wonder where she got that jacket?”

Emma Watson is a Global Goodwill Ambassador for United Nations Women. CREDIT: REX

I ask because a. it’s woman’s day next Tuesday, so why not take some time to ponder what the heck that means: b there was a heated debate in The Telegraph offices this week between those who feel it objectifies women to discuss their clothes and those who feel the issue is more complex. I wasn’t there, but in Milan, objectifying endless outfits. But I get it – this argument against critiquing what anyone’s wearing. I don’t agree with it though. Analysing someone’s choice of outfit is legitimate, surely, especially on the fashion pages. And it’s not the same as verbally assaulting someone’s face or body. I try to keep that in mind when I’m doing red carpet coverage.

French writer and political activist, Simone de Beauvoir CREDIT: GETTY

  So why engage in it at all? Who doesn’t enjoy looking at glamorous people? Besides, this is public service stuff: should the rest of us find ourselves at a black tie event, there are lessons to learned. Ah, but is it fair, given that we don’t write about the men so much, because they all dress pretty much the same? Of course not – the women get far more lucrative advertising deals out of their red carpet forays. Some of them even enjoy it. As Julianne Moore recently told me, “it’s not such a terrible thing to do, to have someone put you in a beautiful dress”.

As ever, it’s a question of degree. I spend weeks of my life going to the fashion capitals where the days (and nights) are filled with people posing in outlandish fashion statements, willing the paparazzi to notice them (and I’m not talking about the models, who have a respectable, professional job to do). It’s human narcissism laid bare, and it’s cringe-making. It gets so bad that sometimes you have to come back home between shows, so you can re-enter earthly orbit and just wear jeans (and I don’t mean the ones that cost £880), because you’re not one of those people who are only defined by fashion.

American political scientist and diplomat, Condoleeza Rice. Credit: Getty

Actually, contrary to what appears on certain strands of social media, hardly anyone is only defined by fashion, anymore that they’re only defined by their golf swing or their brand new Audi R8. It’s true that the industry has become a behemoth – far bigger and more powerful than it was two decades ago. Even so, it doesn’t have a sinister hold over women’s brain cells, or their independence.

Condemning anyone who’s ever found themselves diverted by Watson’s new haircut or Amal’s latest handbag is like branding everyone who’s ever had a sneaky Twix as a (self-induced) diabetic drain on the NHS. The issues become even more complex when Clooney and Watson not only evidently enjoy dressing up but talking about it. As do (or did) Dame Natalie Massenet, Condoleeza Rice, Cate Blanchett, Julianne Moore, Gloria Steinhem, Zadie Smith, Coco Chanel, Miriam Gonzales Durantes, Nancy Mitford and the Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche – not one of whom could be described as lacking in either brain cells or feminist credentials. 

Dame Natalie Massanet; fashion entrepreneur and former journalist, who founded the designer fashion portal Net-a-Porter.

So why are we still even debating whether a woman can be intelligent, feminist and have a penchant for Christopher Kane? I used to think it was a guilt hang-over from the second world war, which made frivolous purchases appear anti-patriotic. But on the contrary, Britain’s coalition government, lead by the (Savile Row dressed) Churchill, proved surprisingly receptive to the idea that fashion, grooming, and keeping up appearances were essential to the war effort. It even encouraged designers to contribute to the Austerity clothing scheme with the aim of providing well-designed, high quality clothing for the masses – an early forerunner of Designers at Debenhams.
Reluctantly I have to point the finger at cossetted baby boomers who sneered at the idea of making an effort – and Simone de Beauvoir, who despite being phenomenally chic, in a Wallis Simpson vein, wrote the most appalling guff about the impulse to look one’s best. Here’s a snippet: “Dressing up, “ she wrote in 1961, “is feminine narcissism in concrete form; it is a uniform and an adornment; by means of it the woman who is deprived of doing anything feels that she expresses what she is.” Really Simone? That might have been true of Emma Bovary, but even in 1961, women were finding other means of self-expression. Yet being French and an Existentialist to boot, de Beauvoir’s do-as-I-say-not-as-I-dress message, has cast a long shadow.

English novelist, Zadie Smith. Credit: Rex

For decades after – and clearly even now – that brains and a delight in the visual (though not of course the sacred Fine Arts) are incompatible. “One night not too long ago, “Nora Ephron recounted, deliciously, in 1970, “I was on a radio show talking about an article I had written for Esquire on Helen Gurley Brown (founding editor of Cosmopolitan) and I was interrupted by another guest, a folk singer, who had just finished a 25 minute lecture on the need for peace. “ I can’t believe we’re talking about Helen Burley Brown, “ he said, “when there’s a war going on in Vietnam. “Well I care that there’s a war in Indochina and I demonstrate about it; and I care that there’s a women’s liberation movement, and I demonstrate for it. But I also go to the movies incessantly, and have my hair done once a week, and cook dinner every night, and spend hours in front of the mirror trying to make my eyes look symmetrical, and I care about those things too…”

 

Perhaps this refusal to countenance ways in which the seemingly frivolous and the seemingly serious can not only co-exist, but blur, is a geographical and cultural problem confined to modern western societies. In an essay entitled Why Can’t Smart Women Love Fashion? for Elle Magazine two years ago, Ngozi Adiche recalled how, when she arrived from Nigeria at her American university, she felt overdressed and unsophisticated. Dressing down was the only way to be taken seriously, academically. For her university administrator mother and friends back in Nigeria, not appearing well dressed, feminine and “well-lotioned” was frowned upon, 'as though her appearance were a character failing. “She doesn’t look like a person,” my mother would say’.
In the end we all have to get dressed and every well known feminist, from Andrea Dworkin to Naomi Wolf has constructed some kind of image for themselves. It doesn’t stop them thinking, even if they’re wrong about clothes.

 Meet the mothers with more style than their daughters

Bip Ling with her mother, Tanya Ling Credit: Toby Coulson 

How times have changed. Where once a girl would roll her eyes at her mother’s wardrobe, shuddering at the prospect of frumpy shoes and bad skirt lengths, now fashion is, thankfully, ageless. Why shouldn’t women of any age be charmed by the latest jean cut (a cropped flare, FYI), a glittery Gucci loafer or a dress by brand-du-jour Vetements? In fact, we’d argue that the older you get, the wiser your fashion choices are; less victim, more, ‘me’. We know what works and what doesn’t, what we feel comfortable in.
Here, four sets of style-savvy mothers and daughters explain how they have shaped each other’s look. If ever you needed proof that fashion is for all ages, surely this is it.

Bip Ling, 25, musician and model and Tanya Ling, 49, artist

Bip: My mummy is the coolest. She had me while in her final year studying fashion at Central St Martins, so I’ve been around fashion since I was a baby. She used to wear this cool pink fluffy dress and was quite punky. She has absolutely influenced the way I dress. I look forward to mooching in a new look every day. We both love Prada and like to wear brights. When I had a tomboy phase growing up, Mummy would always ask me to wear a dress for church on Sundays and I’d have a strop. She loves how I dress now, though. At Christmas she told me that she loved my white nails and I haven’t changed the colour since. The cashmere jumpers she designs are the bomb. I have this cool Veryta dress that she designed and then painted on. I don’t know if she knows that I have it, actually…

Bip’s wish-list: Dotcom bag, £1,870, Fendi, Wrap dress, £32, Topshop

Tanya: I always told my children, ‘Every day is a style day’: whatever you do, you  can do it stylishly. Bipasha took that and ran with  it. She has always looked effortless in what she wears, and her hair is always very groomed and her make-up immaculate. I found my signature scatty-elegant style in my 20s. It was quite art house, but not in-your-face. We share an ability to mish-mash colours together and both of us never say never. When Bipasha was nine, I bought her a gorgeous gingham Cacharel shirt from New York; she didn’t like it  – you can’t impose your world on others. However, she rediscovered it as a teenager and has now worn it to death. I also bought her a navy-blue Austrian boiled-wool jacket that she never wore. Then in her late teens, that was the jacket she never took off. 

Tanya’s wish-list: Embroidered linen shirt, £918, Vita Kin, Cashmere wrap, £670, Queene and Belle 

Lisa Armstrong, 54, Telegraph  fashion director and Kitty Hadaway, 23, student

Lisa Armstrong and Kitty Hadaway Credit: Toby Coulson 

Lisa: I use my daughters as a yardstick as to how I won’t dress any more. I don’t want to be a sad old tribute act and if we like the same things, we wear them differently. Kitty has a black leather jacket; mine is a tan Marni one. She’s really honest with me. I will ask if something is ‘a bit mutton’. No one else will tell me.  Kitty won’t follow trends. I’m not a trend-chaser, but it’s important for me to look as if my style is evolving. She likes a sexier look, whereas  I’m more androgynous. She has borrowed my Louboutins for about six months. Although I used to ban her as she trashed everything – and I don’t think a Chanel handbag is right for a teenage girl. But I think Kitty will end up dressing like me. She has been delving into my wardrobe more and wants my input. There’s less of the curled lip and scorn. 

Lisa’s wish-list: Silk-georgette dress, £425, m.i.h jeans, Pink Tourmaline Double Flower Earrings, £2,200, Pippa Small

Kitty: I don’t think my mother’s career as a fashion editor has influenced the way I dress. There’s only been two times when she has taken complete control of my outfit: my school leavers’ dinner (a black lace dress from French Connection) and my undergraduate graduation (a dress from Self-Portrait). She put a lot of thought into both outfits; I knew that I would look good. Mother dresses on-trend, while never losing sight of her style. I don’t follow trends – my ususal style is jeans, T-shirts and trainers. Hand-me-downs are gladly accepted, though, and I’ll make  a piece more my style by introducing it into an otherwise very ‘me’ outfit.  Mum has no interest in borrowing my clothes, although I once noticed a necklace of mine had worked its way into her collection – possibly the highest praise one could receive.

 

 Kitty's wish-list: Printed dress, £35.99, Mango, Suede pumps, £425, Christian Louboutin

Sienna Guillory, 40, actress and Tina Guillory, 71, designer

Sienna: I’ve always loved that Mum looked more powerful than other mums; she had really toned arms from gardening, wild hair and an ear cuff. Everybody always looked at her a lot. They still do. She is usually dressed in an ancient sailor’s slop, 501s and DMs. She’s much more adventurous with colour than me, and as a student she used to paint silk scarves and sell them. Mum wears more of the old family jewellery now; big diamonds look wicked on older skin. I like to dress like a boy. I wear menswear but I’m quite feminine with it; I like the contrast. Mum designed me a pair of trousers I can wear every day. If there’s something I keep stealing from her, like an old pair of shorts, we work on creating a more modern version of it. Nothing gets thrown out; it gets mended till it’s worn out, then makes its way into the dressing-up box. Then I know it’s mine. 

Sienna’s wish-list: Silk-mix top, £285, Paper London, Embroidered jeans, £168, Aries

 Tina: Sienna and I have kind of morphed together style-wise. She has great ideas, and together we make what we need and wear it! When I need to dress up for an event, I’ll raid her cupboards. I wear what I feel like ‘me’ in, which are pieces from my workwear label, Carrier Company, as well as Dr Martens boots and long jumpers – probably not far off from my art-student days. It was the early 1960s then, so I wore beatnik attire: long black jumpers over short black skirts, black tights, flat shoes and lots of smudged eye make-up.  When Sien was small, there wasn’t a lot of money for fancy brands. While her school friends were dressed in camel coats and white tights, she wore a blanket coat and striped tights, not always happily! Sometimes I recognise her clothes and I know she raids the dressing-up chest. We all do from time to time. 

Tina’s wish-list: Pocketed skirt, £92, Carrier Company, Tweed trainers, £189, Diemme

Tamara Cincik, 46, fashion stylist and Marilyn Cincik, 65, retired

Tamara Cincik and Marilyn Cincik Credit: Toby Coulson 

Tamara: My mum was a rocker in the ’60s. She had me when she was young and my boyfriends would ask why I didn’t dress more like her. She had long dark hair and would wear Scholl sandals with flared jeans, white T-shirts and amazing make-up. To rebel, I didn’t wear make-up or jeans. My look is bohemian. I think my fascination with colour and texture comes from having a Turkish father. When I started styling, I used costumes from around the world. Mum thought styling suited me as a career. I’d long worn vintage ’60s dresses with Victoriana boots and dinner jackets, or ’30s ballgowns with adidas Gazelles. But she didn’t like my nose ring. I have more expensive taste than her: she has worn the same grey skinny jeans for years.  Her long white hair is a part of her look – I can’t ever see her cutting it.

Tamara’s wish-list: Silk-chiffon dress, £2,490, Erdem, Suede shoes, £428, Gucci

Marilyn: Day-to-day, I wear jeans with plain T-shirts and a scarf. I remember trying to look like a beatnik as  a teenager and my mum knitted me a big, baggy red jumper. I also wore a red velvet Beatles cap and black socks with buttons up the sides. My mother was under instruction never to wash my Levi’s – they’d been shrunk by my sitting in a very hot bath.  I realised Tamara would be different when we went down Watford High Street and her outfit included a pair of tights where one leg was black and the other fuchsia – she still has them.  I have some of her cast-offs: a leather jacket and  a flare-skirted raincoat, and she gave me a classic Nicole Farhi shift dress.  I wore it at Christmas with a Cacharel blouse underneath – something I’d never have thought to do until seeing Tamara in something similar. She has a knack! 

 Marilyn’s wish-list: Wool and silk trousers, £495, Joseph, Pebble-chain clutch, £85, Whistles

Christopher Kane interview: how London's young gun went global

Christopher Kane interview: how London's young gun went global

Kane in his Mayfair store with heart-motif pieces from his 2016 resort collection CREDIT:PHILIP SINDEN

The fashion industry has an unusual attitude to the passage of time that could best be described as ‘non-linear’. For if its front-row denizens never age, neither do its designers. This is why Jean Paul Gaultier is still sometimes referred to as an ‘enfant terrible’, despite being 63. It is also why Christopher Kane is lodged in the mind as a ‘young designer’, even though this year marks his 10th in the business. Can it really be 10 years since Kane won over the fashion pack with his debut London show, an energetic paean to elastic and neon? With all that he has achieved – the numerous awards, the stint at Versus, the buyout by the luxury goods group Kering, the collaboration with J Brand, the launch of handbags and accessories, the make-up range for Nars, the opening of his first London store and the celebrity clientele that includes Emma Watson, Kate Bosworth, Alexa Chung and the Duchess of Cambridge – it is easy to forget that Kane is still only 33.

Backstage at Christopher Kane’s autumn/winter 2016 show at London Fashion Week

"I try not to think, 'Oh, we’ve made it,' because we’re always making it," says Kane, sipping a herbal tea in his Mayfair store (he recently gave up caffeine after realising it made him anxious and interfered with his work). "We’re always in the process of making something, put it that way."

The ‘we’ in this equation refers to Kane and his 38-year-old sister Tammy, who, while she remains largely behind the scenes, is integral to the brand. "We’re almost like twins. We think alike; we do everything together. People ask, 'What does Tammy do?' and I say, 'What does Tammy not do?' Tammy’s my main collaborator, my consultant, my stylist, my businesswoman and my best pal."

(L-R) Kane’s sister and collaborator, Tammy; Christopher Kane; Sarah Crook CREDIT: REX

They grew up in Newarthill, a village 16 miles from Glasgow, with two brothers and a sister, in a compact home where intimacy was born as much out of necessity as of choice. In early interviews, Kane was always quick to share a colourful anecdote about his and Tammy’s childhood bond (he once revealed they used to sprinkle salt on each other’s heads, just for the fun of picking it out again).

It says everything about Kane that, despite acquiring the patina of a fully-fledged luxury brand, he is still wonderfully honest – as far removed from the bland, corporate robo-designers who populate parts of the fashion landscape as it is possible to be. He lives in Dalston, east London, and has a partner who also works in fashion, "so it’s quite good to have that support. He and Tammy get on really well."

Salma Hayek at the life-drawing class held in Kane’s store

Last year Kane held a life-drawing class in his Mayfair store to celebrate Frieze, where guests were treated to the spectacle of the actress Salma Hayek and her husband, François-Henri Pinault (owner of Kering, which bought a controlling share in Chris­topher Kane in 2013), frowning in concentration as they tried to render the planes of a naked male body in charcoal. The class was overseen by Janey Broughan, who taught Kane at Taylor High School in Glasgow. "Even then, he stood out," Broughan told me after the class. "His talent was prodigious."

Talking about his fondness for life drawing, I ask now whether it’s true that he used to sketch his sisters naked. "No-o-o," he scoffs. Pause. "But I drew my mum. A lot. Semi-nude." That was one relaxed household, I suggest. "Well, that’s what we wanted to do," he says. "Who else would I want to sit for me but my mum? I grew up surrounded by women – my sisters, and also my mum’s sisters, who were like my other mothers. So I was always around nudity. It was never frowned upon, we were always very liberal."

Christopher Kane SS16

Kane’s spring 2016 collection, which he titled 'Crash and Repair', was influenced by outsider art, a genre that first piqued his interest when Tammy started teaching art therapy in Scotland shortly after their father, a draughtsman, died in 2006.

"She worked with people outside the community, who were either mentally ill or in a nursing home, and I used to help her over the summer during my time off from college," he says. "I’ve always been intrigued by art therapy, because the people Tammy taught produced the most amazing work. It was very primitive, in a sense – instinctive. But art is therapy. You get so much from it."

Christopher Kane SS16

More than most designers, Kane’s collections always feel deeply personal, so it was inevitable that critics would link Crash and Repair’s "creation coming from destruction" theme to the loss of his mother, Christine, who died three days before the show and on the same day that he opened his first London store in 2015. Were they right? "A little bit," he says carefully. "I think it [the collection] is always personal, and obviously when you work with a family member like your sister, it’s our life. It’s what I love. I live and breathe it." He pauses. "Be creative again and it gets you through a lot of things."

As anyone who has suffered a bereavement knows, work can hold a person together who might otherwise have fallen apart, a fact that doesn’t negate the discombobulating weirdness of having to function as you grieve. Where does the sadness go? I want to ask but don’t – the mood has grown sad enough already – so I veer back to the subject of life drawing. Does he think it’s just Scottish people, with their predilection for smut (I can say this, I’m Scottish), who automatically giggle at naked boobs and willies?

Christopher Kane SS16

He brightens. "You know what? I was pretentious as a child. I knew what I wanted, I was confident, I knew what I was good at and I knew I wanted to go to Saint Martins. Tammy pushed me, my mum and dad pushed me in the sense that if I wanted it, I had to work for it. That’s the Scottish mentality. So the first taste of that was going to art school and doing life drawing. I was 14. I remember doing those drawings and thinking, 'This is what I want to do.' I knew that to get into Saint Martins, your portfolio of drawings had to be really thick. You had to show your expression. So I was quite determined."

His focus paid off, and after being accepted on to the Central Saint Martins womenswear BA in 2000, he went on to do an MA under the tutelage of the late Louise Wilson, the highly respected course director. Kane never looked back. Straight out of college, he staged his first show to rave reviews. The top make-up artist Charlotte Tilbury and hair stylist Eugene Souleiman worked on the show. "I thought, 'If they say no, they say no'," he says of asking these industry titans to be involved with such an unknown quantity. "I always aimed high."

Christopher Kane SS16

It was this same ambition that led Kane to sell a 51 per cent stake to Kering in 2013. "The only way forward was to get an investor," he says of the decision now. "As a small business, there’s only so far you can go. Me and Tammy were like headless chickens, doing everything from the admin to putting the bins out. We were a small group of people, and we got to the point where the bit of the job we loved doing [the designing] was so last-minute – even though it was still amazing. But it almost killed us." Today, Kane employs around 60 people, with more stores in the offing – something that would have remained a pipe dream without Kering.

As vast luxury-goods conglomerates with a keen eye on profit go, Kering seems pretty benign, I say. "We met other investors, but when I met François- Henri, it was so… casual. I connected with him. He understands how creative people are tainted with madness!" Kane laughs. "No, I’m joking. But he understands the process of how it can be so torturous to be creative every single day of your life, but that the whole point is to stand out. He knows how to nurture creativity. And he has a great stable of British brands – Stella McCartney, Alexander McQueen – from small to really big."

And Kane gets to hang out with Salma Hayek, I say. That’s a perk. "I’ve always been surrounded by strong women. Salma’s just one of many who have inspired me." Who else? "Well, obviously my mum and sisters. Louise Wilson was a huge influence. Janey Broughan. Anna Wintour, from the beginning, has been a huge support to me. [Net-a-Porter founder] Natalie Massenet too. And Donatella Versace. She’s done everything, seen everything. And she still has the strength to go on, despite what she’s been through. All these strong women…" he pauses for thought. "I can’t tell you a man. OK, François-Henri. But when I try to think of other men… It’s all women." The youngest of whom – his four-year-old niece, Bonnie, daughter of Tammy – has wasted no time in making her opinions known. "The other day she was in the studio, drawing, and she said to Tammy, 'Mummy, am I a better designer than Uncle Christopher?' And Tammy said, 'Yeah, they look amazing. That’s pre-fall done!' "

Talking of pre-fall, how does Kane cope with the vast number of collections he is expected to put out? The pace of fashion has been a topic on everyone’s lips recently, and not one that is likely to go away. "The job is hard – really tough," he admits. "The landscape has changed so much. There’s so much pressure on designers, and your life is public now." Ah, yes: social media. On that subject, he is ambivalent. "I liked the mystery of fashion. And I feel that it’s losing that mystery. But I do think it’s good that people can see collections straight away, and have an opinion about them. But then, people get bored easily. They’ve seen it [the collection] and are like, 'Oh, what’s next?' But that’s the culture we live in. It’s only going to get faster."

Last week, watched by Samantha Cameron and Anna Wintour, Kane unveiled his autumn/winter 2016 collection, a tour de force that riffed around the theme of "making the ordinary extraordinary" and revisited Kane’s obsession with recluses and outsiders. The craftsmanship was superb, the quirky 'Rain Mate' bonnets full of Kane’s trademark humour, and the clothes possessed of a delicate beauty that could only be fully appreciated up close.

Christopher Kane SS16

Will the fashion show ever die? "I don’t think so. People keep saying so, but the shows are so damn good – why change something so good? We need to touch and speak to each other. Say you’re [seeing the clothes] on Instagram, you lose that. You lose the way the clothes move. Why have virtual reality when you can have reality?"

On the topic of how to make that reality a less pressurised affair, Kane is pragmatic. "I don’t know what you can do. We’re on such a roller coaster that we’ve become… We’ve evolved into dealing with that way of life. We’re forever on a deadline. I’m not saying that’s a negative, I’m saying it in a positive way – I’ve adapted into being that person. It’s hard to be creative every day. I became a robot," he says with a laugh, "but a good robot."

No manager required? Team Dior score a winner at Paris Fashion Week

kendall Jenner in the Dior AW16 show CREDIT: ISIDORE  MONTAG

•  Lisa Armstrong, fashion director, the daily telegraph 

4 MARCH 2016 • 5:41PM

Dior is currently missing a creative director, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it. The venue for the autumn/winter 2016 show – in the opulently oppressive 17th Century courtyard of the Louvre – was as lavish as ever. Inside the temporary structure, a series of mirrors and arches created a hermetic bubble that was part Frieze contemporary art fair, part futuristic airport - the twin jet engines of the modern power-brand.

The exterior of the Christian Dior show space CREDIT: AFP

Raf Simons, Dior’s most recent creative director, left last autumn, after failing to reach an agreement on his new contract. In the three years he was there, Simons, a keen collector of contemporary art, did much to foster the label’s artistic links. Since fashion is almost touchingly in awe of all art, this immediately changed external perceptions of Dior. Instead of being a ladies-who-lunch label, it acquired an avant-garde veneer, stocked, inter alia, in Dover Street Market, the London-based department store (with outposts in New York and Tokyo), whose approval is viewed, in the fashion world, as the golden ticket.

Inside the Dior show space CREDIT: AFP

That wasn’t Simons’ only legacy. He revisited Christian Dior’s archives, dusting off the Bar Jacket (first seen in 1947’s New Look), revived Dior’s off the shoulder necklines and plunged into the floral prints.

All these elements were in this new collection. Sprigged flowers and delicate fauna were printed and embroidered onto high-waisted, slashed narrow skirts and fold-neck dresses. Jackets were patterned or scrupulously plain, sometimes reworked as coats. The off-the shoulder silhouetted played out repeatedly: on dresses, jackets and coats, sometimes layered over zippered blousons or floral shirts, for a double-neckline effect.

Dior AW16 collection CREDIT: ISIDORE MONTAG

The results were mostly sleek and striking and it was instructive to see how Dior’s codes – the peplum jackets, sloping necklines and swing coats - can be endlessly reworked to look extravagant and  jewelled or monochromatically minimalist. In fact the more Simon’s ideas are repeated, the better they look, their kinks ironed out.

Dior AW16 collection CREDIT: ISIDORE MONTAG

The accessories were good too: an elegant lace up, mid height scooped-out ankle boot and tiny embroidered bags with  wide, bandolier straps bang on trend (a thick contrasting strap may be all that’s required to update your bag net winter: this trend is everywhere). There was even a genuinely useful innovation: sunglasses cases with straps that can be slung across the body.

Dior AW16 collection CREDIT: ISIDORE MONTAG

Clearly Dior’s (uncredited) design team is commendably competent at holding the fort (they did it before, following John Galliano's dismissal) and working to an agreed blueprint. Sometimes, Dior’s management must be tempted to carry on indefinitely in this vein, given how hard it seems to be to fill the top slot here.

Designers for Dior Fashion house acknowledge the public after presenting their collection CREDIT: EPA

However, if Dior is to flourish in the long term, it needs to appoint a designer and soon. As Gucci’s current revival demonstrates, a singular vision still trumps consensus.