Avant Garde
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telegraph.co.ukEmbrace the death of cheap chic
Last Updated: 12:01am BST 08/08/2007
Buying fewer, more expensive clothes just makes more sense, says Linda Kelsey
I'm just back from a two-week holiday on the Costa del Sol. Flying Monarch to Malaga return cost me less than a hundred quid. My bill for excess baggage was £30 each way. Not such a bargain after all.
I blamed it all on the holiday reading - six fat books to see me through the fortnight. I didn't confess that I had actually sneaked the books, along with two sponge bags jammed with holiday potions and lotions, into my son's half-empty bag when he wasn't looking.
The truth was that my guilty suitcase was completely crammed with clothes. And my one consolation was that the girlfriend who travelled with me had to pay even more for excess baggage than I did - and she was only there for a week.
But the curse of the bulging suitcase may be about to crumble.
Fashion addicts, brace yourselves: after a decade of snips and steals and plummeting prices, it looks as though the cost of clothes is about to rise. In just a couple more years, according to Neil Saunders, from the research firm Verdict Consulting, fashion deflation will come to an abrupt end.
For more than a decade, while the cost of practically everything else has been going up, the price of clothing has been coming down, thanks mostly to cheap labour and production in countries such as India and China. But soon it won't be possible to source ever cheaper places to manufacture clothes.
Aside from the ethical benefits, this is no bad thing, as far as I'm concerned.
If willpower alone isn't going to stop me going on buying benders that extend my wardrobe beyond the hope of minimalist holiday-packing, an even bigger dent in my pocket just might.
I don't even class myself as a clothesaholic. But when I got back from Malaga, I did a stock-take of all the things I didn't wear, and these included: three bikinis (all last year's); three dresses (all brand new); two skirts; two pairs of trousers; seven T-shirts; seven pairs of summer sandals and flip-flops; and four bras.
In my less sane moments I blame the glory that is Zara, and the dollar-sterling exchange rate that enabled me to go on a rampage in New York earlier this year, binge-buying at Gap, J Crew and Banana Republic.
But I know it doesn't have to be this way. There was a time when I used to pay far more for my clothes, and had far fewer of them.
I can conjure up the silky feel and phenomenally flattering cut of a much-loved Giorgio Armani suit. Every now and then I remove from its pristine, orange cardboard box the black Hermès Kelly handbag that my husband bought me as a wedding gift. Sometimes I hold it aloft and blow it kisses; occasionally, I even use it.
I do know it's not sensible to spend £180 on a Pucci bikini when M&S has perfectly acceptable ones for £25, but that bikini I bought from Harvey Nicks in June is a beacon of beauty among my motley array of cut-price beachwear.
A Primark T-shirt doesn't have that Armani/Hermès/Pucci effect on me, especially after I've spent five minutes watching it unravel before my eyes, snipping frantically at bits of thread that have started to separate themselves from the garment they were meant to hold together.
I don't suppose my Kate Moss-inspired Topshop tank-tops will feature in the stories I tell my grandchildren, but that Hermès handbag just might.
Cheap doesn't always mean worse quality, though. My sister's Prada pullover bobbled alarmingly in a matter of weeks last winter, whereas my cashmere Zara cardi, at a fraction of the price, remained pristine despite repeated washing and wearing.
But I have also discovered that a well-cut pair of Joseph trousers or James jeans will spring back into shape with all the resilience of Jeffrey Archer, whereas cheap trousers sag and bag so quickly that even if your bottom is as pert as J-Lo's, it won't look it for long.
One of the biggest changes in fashion over the past decade has been the speed at which catwalk styles arrive in high-street shops. We can all get hold of affordable ''designer'' looks, so there's no feeling that there's a party going on in Bond Street to which we haven't been invited.
It's a democratisation that's hard to knock, unless you're the designer who's being knocked-off. Maybe we ought to pay just a little more for the privilege of the I-could-swear-it's-Marc-Jacobs coat.
There is another reason why I don't feel gloomy about the projected price hikes in the fashion industry. As a magazine editor between the mid-1980s and 1990s, rather like a City gent I had one immaculate trouser suit for each day of the week. The joy of it was getting dressed for work in two minutes.
Now I can't even trundle off to the supermarket without having to decide between eight pairs of jeans and six pairs of sweatpants. Too much choice. Too much greed. Call me perverse, but far from feeling it's fashion Armageddon, I think the end of cheap chic is something to welcome with open arms.
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...even though i haven't found anything there that fit me properly in several years...

