It's the Economy Stupid

I’m no Shakespeare, but fashion has always had a funny knack of inspiring the storyteller in me. The morning sample sale that made me late for work as I battled through a stack of “please-fit-mes” becomes an indignant tale about the faults of public transport. And the quest for the right pair of Oxfords, a War and Peace epic.

Though I have an addict’s propensity to twist the truth for a pair of shoes or the right dress, fortunately there are others for whom fashion serves as intellectual inspiration. Take George Taylor and his hemline effect. Tracking the rise and fall of the skirt, in the 1920s Taylor argued that the economy neatly paralleled the hemline. He noted that with post war prosperity skirt lengths and stock prices hiked up, only for them to come tumbling down years later with the Wall Street Crash. The hypothesis makes sense and has been borne out several times. Just think mini-skirt, 1960’s rebellion and the subsequent craze for mid-lengths after the 1973 Oil Crisis.

So if Taylor’s theory is to follow, with current news of a strained economy, budget deficit and mortgage crunch, fashionistas should be setting down their copies of the Wall Street Journal right about now to slip on floor-sweeping skirts. And true to form, many of the Fall 2007 catwalks complied with Marc Jacobs and Louis Vuitton offering up new midi lengths hovering around the knee and mid-calf. As the gamine and carefree matured into chic, bookish elegance, gone were spring and summer’s short silhouettes and in came demure style.

Putting all fashion-forwardness aside, here’s the problem. For those of us unaccustomed to adopting Alan Greenspan as style guru, or Ben Bernanke as fashion doyen, is it wise to invest in a trend that could go bankrupt in a fashionable five minutes? Call me stuck in a rut, but maybe I’m happy flitting around in a loose babydoll tunic and opaque tights, even if it is a sartorial version of rose-tinted sunglasses. In my book, to nix a trend that’s as comfy as pyjamas and capable of stylishly camouflaging a multitude of just-one-more-slice-of-brie sins, warrants more reflection. After all, if a garment can melt away years of deflating experiences in the Victoria Secret dressing room with its flattering fit for smaller frames, then it’s worth gambling on for at least one more season. As we enter a period of belt-tightening, wouldn’t fall’s slew of waist-cinchers would be more apt?

In the interest of not finding myself on What Not To Wear, I eventually decide to give the long trend a chance. As I envisage myself tearfully ditching familiar shopping instincts and venturing into the unknown territory of a new silhouette, I turn to the retail powers that be. Picturing a new fashion narrative of long skirts, I push visions of frumpy grunge ankle kissers to the back of my mind and focus on a chic future in Roland Mouret-esque pencil skirts. But from Bergdorf to Banana Republic, Net-A-Porter to Old Navy, online and in store, nobody it seems has deemed the long trend an entirely bankable look. In fact, aside from the occasional glam gown, the long and short of it is that if any leg-covering austerity has filtered down the fashion food chain, it’s manifested by a renewed interest in pants.

Rails I imagined burgeoning with frocks in the new length are replete with trousers. From sophisticated takes on Miu Miu’s full-leg trousers, to Balenciaga’s jodhpurs and riffs on Derek Lam’s long and lean slacks, the buyers have spoken: if it’s not short and sexy, they’re voting for pants. There’s a fit for everyone, including drainpipe pants that are so straight they could pass for leggings. Perfect to pair with those tunics -- now we’re talking.

Has the hemline effect been dethroned, and can we forget about looking at the bank statements before embarking on fashion statements? After all, what could say more about women’s attitudes towards the economy than this clear lust for take-charge, menswear power dressing? To wit I dub 2007 the year of pant leg economics. Who cares about long versus short, or midi versus maxi? Wide leg versus, skinny or low rise versus high-waist: now that is the question.

I guess you can call me Shakespeare after all.