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Designer prices go sky-high
(Filed: 11/01/2006)
The yummy mummies and chavs are to blame, discovers Jan Moir
It's January, and a new year of frocks and jumpers and socks and hats and shoes and big pants and skirts - plus endless bits and bobs to accessorise them all - stretches long into the exciting seasons ahead.
Chanel: this dress can be yours for £15,510 Chloé is doing duchesse satin skirts with big bows at the front that are beyond divine, and Marc Jacobs's new wool pea coat is practically edible. But what's going to be your fashion fix in 2006?
Perhaps you woke up this morning with an urge to reinvent the classics? To wear a pair of tailored trousers with a chiffon, bell-sleeved blouse, or maybe a structured suit with an Alice band and killer heels? I know I did, so thank heavens for Grazia magazine, which recently published a moodily lit fashion spread full of just such items.
Oh yes. Look at those clothes. Aren't they dreamy? Sandwiched between full-page adverts for a £35 necklace that's possibly made of tin, and a pair of expandable boots for readers with fat calves and a fondness for elastic gusseting, the magazine has featured a lovely black vesty thing with a skirt to match; a chiffon blouse with trousers; a sharp suit worn with smart heels; a silver Gucci handbag; and a white opera coat with saucer-sized buttons that's beautiful enough to make grown women weep.
But speaking of weeping, just take a look at the prices. The vest is £575, and the skirt, £690 - both by Louis Vuitton. The Roberto Cavalli chiffon blouse is £1,235, the trousers, £475. That Prada suit will set you back £1,060, while the Vuitton opera coat is £1,530, and the silver bag, a spine-shuddering £3,080.
The Alice band is only £40, for which small, double-digit mercy, many thanks to Miuccia Prada, who designed it. A hairband for 40 quid? I think I'm getting the message, too.
Elsewhere in Prada's new collection, there's a handbag for £660, and a pair of shoes for £1,485 to finish the look, and excuse me while I rummage down the back of the sofa to see if there's enough change there to splurge on her £2,595 matching hatbox.
Look. What on earth has happened to designer clothes? Why have they suddenly become so farcically expensive? Once upon a time, not very long ago, it was only couture pieces that displayed such daunting price tags, but now, ready-to-wear items costing north of a few thousand pounds are commonplace.
"Its almost a demi-couture level," says Paula Reed, Grazia's style director, who goes on to explain that fashion houses are keen to put some distance between themselves and the myriad high-street stores, which now copy their designs so adroitly. "So they are using unique fabrics and hand-finishing techniques, making them a luxury commodity," she says, neatly explaining the Chav barricades top houses are now throwing up around their designs.
Meanwhile, Harrods has a John Galliano black corset dress on the rails for £6,300, while Matches boutique in London is stocking Balenciaga cream lace halter dresses for £3,800. The current issue of Vogue features a Chanel silk chiffon dress for £15,510. A little Empire-line number by Maurizio Pecoraro, stocked by Feathers boutique in London, is yours for £3,295.
Even the fashion pages of our own dear Telegraph Magazine this week featured, among other things, an undistinguished Chanel cardi that costs nearly £1,000. A thousand pounds! And the wind would go right through it, as my mother would say.
Dolce & Gabbana: a snip at £4,490Yet these kind of charges are not exceptional or unusual any more; they are as commonplace as Marks & Sparks's six-pack knickers.
"It is true that some prices have become shocking," says Louise Chunn, editor of In Style. "What's even stranger is that spending that kind of money no longer guarantees exclusivity. Someone could easily turn up at a party in the same dress, but shoppers don't seem to be daunted by that sort of thing. They want the frock or whatever, so they buy it."
Chunn believes that the booming prices are just one of the signs of a buoyant industry and of a captive, active market that is ageing more beautifully than it ever did before: the yummy mummy factor.
"Fashion is in fashion at the moment. It's really pumped up," she says. "It used to be that it was the preserve of young girls and that, once women got married and had kids, they eased off on fashion, but not any more. They carry on looking good, they don't let go of themselves and they make the market expand."
While designer shopping has never been an economy pastime, and is often aspirational in intent, it didn't seem beyond the bounds of most reasonably prosperous women to indulge themselves now and again with a knick-knack from Gucci, a special party frock, or even a little bit of Ralph Lauren cashmere, to cheer them up in winter. But prices are inching into the kind of financial stratosphere where perhaps only Mrs Abramovich and Posh Spice can move with any ease - although, as Posh is always trussed up in some unlikely Roberto Cavalli dress these days, she can hardly move at all.
Sometimes, when bored at work, we torture our fashion editor, Clare Coulson, by pulling her pigtails (the Heidi look is going to be big this year, apparently), hiding her Paddington handbag, then making her explain how the economics of the fashion world break down.
Between screams, Coulson eventually reveals that the general fashion retail mark-up can be as much as three times the wholesale price. This means that a dress that costs £3,000 in a shop near you would have been purchased wholesale for around £1,000, and probably cost around £500 to make. "Maybe even less," says Coulson.
It's no wonder that so many of us now feel a disconnection with fashion and - on a more serious note - why so many young women find themselves so in debt. The pressure to keep up is immense, even if all the fashion pundits cry: "Only buy it if you really love it."
While recently admiring a rack of almost identical, simple razor-cut Lanvin dresses, I was still startled by their £1,500 price tag. Elsewhere, there is absolutely nothing that Chloé makes that isn't utterly delicious and deeply covetable, but its muslin summer dresses are nearly £700. Muslin! That's the stuff you use to strain jam.
Yet the news from the fashion front continues to depress. This year, clothes are set to become even more expensive, with some ready-to-wear Chloé day dresses boasting £3,000 price tags, and Giles Deacon is sending out duchesse satin shifts that even duchesses might not be able to afford. Where is it all going to end?
"It's not going to explode, or end with a bang," says Chunn. "The air will be let out slowly. We've got a long way to go yet."
telegraph.co.uk
(Filed: 11/01/2006)
The yummy mummies and chavs are to blame, discovers Jan Moir
It's January, and a new year of frocks and jumpers and socks and hats and shoes and big pants and skirts - plus endless bits and bobs to accessorise them all - stretches long into the exciting seasons ahead.
Perhaps you woke up this morning with an urge to reinvent the classics? To wear a pair of tailored trousers with a chiffon, bell-sleeved blouse, or maybe a structured suit with an Alice band and killer heels? I know I did, so thank heavens for Grazia magazine, which recently published a moodily lit fashion spread full of just such items.
Oh yes. Look at those clothes. Aren't they dreamy? Sandwiched between full-page adverts for a £35 necklace that's possibly made of tin, and a pair of expandable boots for readers with fat calves and a fondness for elastic gusseting, the magazine has featured a lovely black vesty thing with a skirt to match; a chiffon blouse with trousers; a sharp suit worn with smart heels; a silver Gucci handbag; and a white opera coat with saucer-sized buttons that's beautiful enough to make grown women weep.
But speaking of weeping, just take a look at the prices. The vest is £575, and the skirt, £690 - both by Louis Vuitton. The Roberto Cavalli chiffon blouse is £1,235, the trousers, £475. That Prada suit will set you back £1,060, while the Vuitton opera coat is £1,530, and the silver bag, a spine-shuddering £3,080.
The Alice band is only £40, for which small, double-digit mercy, many thanks to Miuccia Prada, who designed it. A hairband for 40 quid? I think I'm getting the message, too.
Elsewhere in Prada's new collection, there's a handbag for £660, and a pair of shoes for £1,485 to finish the look, and excuse me while I rummage down the back of the sofa to see if there's enough change there to splurge on her £2,595 matching hatbox.
Look. What on earth has happened to designer clothes? Why have they suddenly become so farcically expensive? Once upon a time, not very long ago, it was only couture pieces that displayed such daunting price tags, but now, ready-to-wear items costing north of a few thousand pounds are commonplace.
"Its almost a demi-couture level," says Paula Reed, Grazia's style director, who goes on to explain that fashion houses are keen to put some distance between themselves and the myriad high-street stores, which now copy their designs so adroitly. "So they are using unique fabrics and hand-finishing techniques, making them a luxury commodity," she says, neatly explaining the Chav barricades top houses are now throwing up around their designs.
Meanwhile, Harrods has a John Galliano black corset dress on the rails for £6,300, while Matches boutique in London is stocking Balenciaga cream lace halter dresses for £3,800. The current issue of Vogue features a Chanel silk chiffon dress for £15,510. A little Empire-line number by Maurizio Pecoraro, stocked by Feathers boutique in London, is yours for £3,295.
Even the fashion pages of our own dear Telegraph Magazine this week featured, among other things, an undistinguished Chanel cardi that costs nearly £1,000. A thousand pounds! And the wind would go right through it, as my mother would say.
"It is true that some prices have become shocking," says Louise Chunn, editor of In Style. "What's even stranger is that spending that kind of money no longer guarantees exclusivity. Someone could easily turn up at a party in the same dress, but shoppers don't seem to be daunted by that sort of thing. They want the frock or whatever, so they buy it."
Chunn believes that the booming prices are just one of the signs of a buoyant industry and of a captive, active market that is ageing more beautifully than it ever did before: the yummy mummy factor.
"Fashion is in fashion at the moment. It's really pumped up," she says. "It used to be that it was the preserve of young girls and that, once women got married and had kids, they eased off on fashion, but not any more. They carry on looking good, they don't let go of themselves and they make the market expand."
While designer shopping has never been an economy pastime, and is often aspirational in intent, it didn't seem beyond the bounds of most reasonably prosperous women to indulge themselves now and again with a knick-knack from Gucci, a special party frock, or even a little bit of Ralph Lauren cashmere, to cheer them up in winter. But prices are inching into the kind of financial stratosphere where perhaps only Mrs Abramovich and Posh Spice can move with any ease - although, as Posh is always trussed up in some unlikely Roberto Cavalli dress these days, she can hardly move at all.
Sometimes, when bored at work, we torture our fashion editor, Clare Coulson, by pulling her pigtails (the Heidi look is going to be big this year, apparently), hiding her Paddington handbag, then making her explain how the economics of the fashion world break down.
Between screams, Coulson eventually reveals that the general fashion retail mark-up can be as much as three times the wholesale price. This means that a dress that costs £3,000 in a shop near you would have been purchased wholesale for around £1,000, and probably cost around £500 to make. "Maybe even less," says Coulson.
It's no wonder that so many of us now feel a disconnection with fashion and - on a more serious note - why so many young women find themselves so in debt. The pressure to keep up is immense, even if all the fashion pundits cry: "Only buy it if you really love it."
While recently admiring a rack of almost identical, simple razor-cut Lanvin dresses, I was still startled by their £1,500 price tag. Elsewhere, there is absolutely nothing that Chloé makes that isn't utterly delicious and deeply covetable, but its muslin summer dresses are nearly £700. Muslin! That's the stuff you use to strain jam.
Yet the news from the fashion front continues to depress. This year, clothes are set to become even more expensive, with some ready-to-wear Chloé day dresses boasting £3,000 price tags, and Giles Deacon is sending out duchesse satin shifts that even duchesses might not be able to afford. Where is it all going to end?
"It's not going to explode, or end with a bang," says Chunn. "The air will be let out slowly. We've got a long way to go yet."
telegraph.co.uk
today i saw a chloe spaghetti strap top made of what looked like cheesecloth. $400
