Thanks to Jilly Cooper, tartan and tweed, waxed jackets and wellies are a style vibe right now

British heritage, in fashion terms, is a country where it is permanently October. A conker-brown and pleasant land, if you will. Brand Britain in the style sense comes into its own in autumn: roaring fires, muddy lanes, damp dogs. Waxed jackets and chunky knits, tartan and tweed, jaunty scarves to banish draughts. Clothes for going on a hearty walk, but with a hip flask in your pocket. Fashion has been mining this seam since long before Brideshead Revisited made battered evening dresses and Oxford bags look romantic, and it keeps returning, because trad British style is satisfyingly utilitarian while also being loaded with enough backstory (class, history, eccentricity) to be intriguing and reinventable.

Also: Rivals. It has taken considerable restraint for me not to mention Rivals in the whole of the first paragraph, because it is now a matter of mere weeks until we get our next Jilly Cooper fix and I, for one, cannot wait. Cannot wait for Cameron stalking the corridors in her foxy power suits, for Taggie in her cute jeans and jumpers, for Valerie in head-to-toe tweed and an aggressive amount of blusher. The success of Rivals has done for old-school British dressing what Emily in Paris did for the beret, only with better jokes and more adultery. Jolly hockey sticks style is the new French girl chic. This fantasy is homegrown, which makes it both more embarrassing and harder to resist. Just as Emily and her friends and frenemies are a camp send-up of fashionable Paris, Rivals is a fond, nostalgic semi-parody of the British wardrobe. The show’s costume designer, Ray Holman, has drawn on original 1980s pieces from Dunhill and Mulberry for inspiration. With Liberty fabrics, nods to polo uniforms and sturdy waxed coats, he has brought the Sloane ranger back into the fashion conversation for the first time in years.

It’s time to learn the art of layering – and we’re talking a crew neck with a ballet wrap and blazer, not full-on outdoor explorer

Is layering an art? Probably not in the traditional sense. We are not talking the Bayeux tapestry here. No one is going to queue round the block to admire the subtle interplay between your Uniqlo Heattech and your cashmere crewneck. Still, I think it’s nice to romanticise this stuff. The deeply unpoetic truth is that it is going to get cold and wearing one item of clothing at a time simply isn’t going to cut it. So let’s pretend that the sliver of white T-shirt beneath a jumper, the shirt collar poking out above a cardigan, or the ballet wrap over a snug top are not acts of basic thermal self-preservation, but composition. A creative statement about proportion, texture, colour and self-expression. If you have to wear half your wardrobe at once, you may as well make a masterpiece out of it.

The avant-garde layering term to drop in order to sound like a connoisseur this season is onion dressing. Not the most romantic name, but a clear visual for the most refined form of layering, which is fine layers rather than hefty ones. And instead of the top layer covering all beneath it, each piece should be visible. As if we were slicing through the onion and looking at a cross-section if you will excuse me labouring the allium thing. This is layering with finesse rather than brute force. Hems and collars and cuffs give an outfit depth and texture without adding too much bulk. You want to look intriguing and multi-dimensional, not like Joey in Friends wearing all of Chandler’s clothes.

Think boucle jackets with low-waisted jeans, silk blouses with masculine trousers, pencil skirts with wellies …

It always makes me feel a tiny bit queasy when looking “ladylike”, as a trend or a vibe or whatever, comes into fashion. How does it make sense to spend our hard-earned paychecks cosplaying as women of lunches and leisure?

You can’t deny these clothes are cute, though. A boucle jacket can make you feel as if the Eiffel Tower might come into view around the next corner, even though you are in the wrong country. A mini-heel lets you imagine you might be having a glass of sancerre with your lunch, when in reality a can of San Pellegrino is as exciting as it is going to get. There is an air of gentle charm, of courtesy, to lady-adjacent style that can take the edge off a tough day.

Sarah Burton’s sporty, daffodil mesh dress made me smile. But the reason I chose it for Fashion Museum Bath is because it tells the story of our times, when bodies are more political than ever

One morning in February this year, I opened my laptop to find an email with an all-caps subject line: TOP SECRET. Being a fashion editor can be exciting but state secrets are not generally my beat, so I was intrigued. Sure enough, it was a thrill: an invitation from the Fashion Museum Bath to choose their Dress of the Year for 2025.

What an honour. Dress of the Year began in 1963, the brainchild of the museum’s founder Doris Langley Moore, as a way of keeping a static collection perpetually current. Each year a fashion expert picks an outfit or outfits that capture the year just gone, and these become part of the permanent collection. There is a Mary Quant dress and a Katharine Hamnett slogan T-shirt, Ossie Clark chiffon and Ralph Lauren pinstripes. There is sublime beauty from the catwalks of Yves Saint Laurent and Chanel and John Galliano, and pieces of cultural history: McQueen’s bumsters, Jennifer Lopez’s internet-breaking green Versace Grammy dress, Dior’s “We Should All Be Feminists” slogan, Naomi Campbell’s pandemic hazmat suit, a Black Lives Matter T-shirt, and the dress worn by the Duchess of Sussex for her Oprah interview in 2021. “Dress” is interpreted loosely, in the sense of clothing rather than a frock: the lineup includes men’s suits. The Bath museum is currently mid-revamp, having closed its doors in 2022, with construction soon to start on a new museum set to open in the city’s old post office in 2030. Meanwhile the collection is stored in Wiltshire and can be seen online.

There’s a lot of Brando badboy baggage attached to this classic outerwear – here’s how to look chic rather than stompy

In lots of ways, the arrival of autumn makes getting dressed easier. Not having to shave above your knees. Enough pockets to make a handbag optional. But it’s not all plain sailing. For instance, I don’t think we talk enough about how hard it is to carry off a leather jacket.

I thought maybe it was just me. And then I came across Lucinda Chambers – Vogue fashion director for 25 years, now co-curator of gorgeous platform of desirables Collagerie – remarking that she found leather jackets tricky. Lucinda is without a doubt one of the best-dressed women in London, always rocking a strong look – colour, stripes, great jewellery, unexpected shoes – so I was amazed and a bit gratified to find even she struggles.

Models walk runway at the Louvre with flying cars hovering above as designer envisions city life in a warming world

In silk slip dresses, breezy vented tunics and gossamer layers of chiffon, the models on Louis Vuitton’s catwalk were perfectly dressed for an unseasonably warm October evening in Paris. As the show began at sunset it was still 24C.

This summer’s record temperatures were on designer Nicolas Ghesquiière’s mind. “The world is getting warmer, this definitely had a strong influence” he said.

Artistic director is all smiles as he swaps quiet luxury for bold colours and patterns at Paris show

“It’s a good start,” Matthieu Blazy said after a Paris show that marked a year of his tenure as artistic director at Chanel. “I am happy with where we are at.”

Chanel now holds the top spot in the Lyst index of the world’s hottest brands, which tracks demand and engagement across search and social media. The privately held company announces official financial results only once a year, but figures reported by Bloomberg showed 16% growth in the first half of 2026. In Vanity Fair’s list of the world’s 50 most powerful people, published this month, Blazy is the only fashion designer to make the cut. People who don’t much care about fashion have noticed him; people who do care about fashion talk about him non-stop.

American in Paris showcases new simplicity with stretch cocktail frocks, but there’s still plenty of gold-foiled nipples and peekaboo fabrics to wow the frow

In a world of mega brands, the house of Schiaparelli is small but perfectly formed. There are only 10 points of sale worldwide where Schiaparelli clothes can be bought. The size of the business has risen from $6m in 2020 to around $100m today, but Schiaparelli is still small fry compared with other names on the Paris catwalks.

However, the Schiaparelli name punches above its weight. An exhibition at London’s V&A museum this year made a strong case for its founder, Elsa Schiaparelli, who collaborated with Salvador Dali and Jean Cocteau, as a creative force in the surrealism movement of the 1930s.

Italian designer imbues collection with signature flourishes and style rooted in the craft of the couture atelier

It was “the most personal show I have done here”, the designer Pierpaolo Piccioli said after his Balenciaga presentation at Paris fashion week on Thursday.

Piccioli, who always wears a coral necklace, placed a monumental sculpture of undersea coral crafted from fabric in the middle of the catwalk. Like Cristóbal Balenciaga, Piccioli is both a maximalist and a minimalist. He likes boldness but not fuss, each look one audacious idea executed cleanly. A floor-length ivory cape fastened with a simple gold clasp. A black suit with one bold slash of tangerine at the jacket hem. A gown covered from neck to ankle in bubbles of organza.

Designer showcases wool alternatives and ocean-inspired clothes and says ‘kindness requires real work’

Stella McCartney has been talking about animal rights at fashion week for 30 years. She is usually a lone voice, but the issue is back in the headlines this season. Outcry over the physical restraining of a Peta protester at a catwalk show by Steven Kolb, the president of New York fashion week’s governing body, has put cruelty in wool production – previously considered niche compared to the hot button topic of fur – on the news agenda.

“There is no wool on the runway this season, and I’m proud of that,” McCartney said after her show. She has been working on wool alternatives, including Brewed Protein, a fermented alternative to cashmere and wool developed in collaboration with the Japanese biotech firm Spiber, which was first used in her collections a year ago.

Designer’s latest work takes bold steps away from the fashion house’s brand, creating a show that felt like an event

“I want to land on a vibe.” This was how Dior designer Jonathan Anderson, one year into what is arguably the biggest job in fashion, summed up his assignment before his latest show. Expounding on chiffon and buttons with the intensity of a barrister delivering a closing speech in the high court, ruffling his hair as if his mind might at any moment explode with ideas, Anderson brings more brainpower to the pursuit of the vibe than the superficial phrasing suggests.

The vibe is coming in to land. This Dior show felt like an event, which is the bar Christian Dior set for his successors back in 1947, when his New Look silhouette made front pages all over the world. Overnight, trees had emerged out of the circular pond in the Tuileries Garden in Paris, and – thanks to the deep pockets of owners LVMH – a magical mist conjured to swirl around them, lending a cinematic grandeur to the slender catwalk spanning the water. (The trees will be replanted elsewhere in the gardens, after the show.)

They dressed – and partied with – the innermost in-crowd. As a swirling new show celebrates their fashion creations, Birtwell recalls her happy days with Clark and her sorrow at the loss of David Hockney

In the mythical age of bohemia, the psychedelic decade between Mary Quant’s cheerful miniskirts and the first snarls of punk, Celia Birtwell and Ossie Clark were London’s most fashionable couple. Birtwell created the fabrics: daydreamy, botanical doodles that captured the idealism and looseness of the times in wisps of chiffon. Clark magicked these into sensual bias-cut dresses with a freewheeling grandeur that was part Hollywood glamour, part rock’n’roll anarchy.

More than just designers, they were a whole vibe. They dressed – and partied with – the innermost of the in-crowd. Talitha Getty, Marianne Faithfull and Anita Pallenberg hung out at Quorum, their Chelsea boutique. At a catwalk show in 1970, there were two Beatles, Cecil Beaton and Brigitte Bardot in the audience – and, after Clark began making stage clothes for Mick Jagger, he accompanied the Rolling Stones on tour. David Hockney’s portrait of the couple in their pomp – Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy, painted two years into their marriage, when Birtwell was pregnant with their second child – sealed their place in the mythology of the period.

Chore jackets and loose-fit trousers nod to ‘nonconformist glamour’ of Amelia Earhart and other pioneers

The Max Mara catwalk at Milan fashion week had well-cut coats, sturdy block-heeled boots, crisp white shirts and capacious suede handbags. What it quite deliberately did not have was shock value. “I hope everyone watching this show can recognise something of themselves in what they see,” said Ian Griffiths, the British designer who has been at this Italian house since 1987. “I think that’s really important. Without being critical of other brands or designers, so much of fashion alienates people and makes them feel that they aren’t good enough or thin enough or young enough to wear what’s being represented.”

Trousers were pleated and roomy, skirts long enough to be elegant but not long enough to trip you up. In shades of sand and chalk, grey and black, every piece was designed to work with everything else, and to blend into an existing wardrobe. The styling gestures – a popped collar here, a knotted belt there – stopped short of gimmick. The models could have walked off the runway and on to the Milan street – which, Griffiths said backstage, was the point. “The catwalk show is only the prelude to what to me is the real presentation, which is when I see women walking down the street in my clothes.”

The push to buy lasting, sustainable clothes is a good thing, but every wardrobe need a bit of mischief

I do hope you are wearing your zebra stripe trousers today. Anyone who is anyone is wearing zebra stripes this month, you know. If you haven’t yet got with the programme, I suggest you nip to the shops and snap some up before they are all gone. It would be mortifying to be the last one without a pair. Hurry!

Only teasing. Fashion doesn’t work like that any more. The days when people like me bullied everyone else into wearing banana yellow one season and puffball sleeves the next are over. Looking trendy is over. Timeless chic is the only show in town. Peacocking has been phased out in favour of understatement and personal style.

Milan show full of diaphanous dresses and visible bras celebrates ‘incredible feminist’ of the 1970s, Raffaella Carrà

Maria Grazia Chiuri has been having more fun with clothes since she decamped from Paris back to her native Rome to work at Fendi. “I have less of a uniform these days. I think it is because being back here makes me feel young again. I’m not sure my daughter appreciates [this attitude]! But I don’t care,” she said at a preview before her Milan fashion week show.

Not that Chiuri doesn’t approach her work as a designer seriously. She described her second ready-to-wear season at Fendi not as a show, or a collection, but as “the second part of the project I am working on for them”.

Combination of Miuccia Prada with Belgian designer Raf Simons once again spins gold for fashion house

Miuccia Prada’s style formula is simple: begin with a great skirt. Her personal uniform is a knee-length skirt, A-line or pleated, most often with a plain sweater and kitten heels.

The Prada collection that opened Milan fashion week made a compelling case for her favourite outfit, with a skirt the star of every one of the 63 looks – no dresses, no trousers. It won the room over, so expect to see the personality skirt on a high street near you soon.

Textile designer brings florals, vines and smiley doodles to brand’s luxury checks for one-off paired collection

Burberry and Celia Birtwell are both national treasures of sorts. One is Britain’s grandest luxury name, the other the textile designer who dressed bohemian 1960s London in her prints and has a place in art history as David Hockney’s favourite muse.

Burberry’s designer, Daniel Lee, has always loved Birtwell’s prints. When the two met this spring, he fell for “her energy, and her zest for life”, and a one-off Burberry meets Birtwell collection that closed London fashion week was born.

Brand returns to its physical and unconventional roots as it battles undergoes stark restructuring

Back when a young Lee McQueen was showing at London fashion week, there was Dante, the show in a Hawksmoor church with a skeleton in the front row and a blaring soundtrack of organ music and gunfire. And there was Voss, where models were trapped inside a giant mirrored box set up as a psychiatric ward.

Twenty-five years later, the Alexander McQueen brand returned from the Paris schedule to a creepily beautiful subterranean 17th century London chapel, with steel harnesses, bulky ankle strapped heels that looked like electronic monitoring tags, and a chain mail dress of tiny silver skulls.

Appointment of Kane as creative director signals the return of serious style ambition for former It-bag brand

With spicy leather mini-dresses and shoes with miniature axes for heels, two beloved British names made a swaggering joint comeback at London fashion week.

Fifteen years ago, Christopher Kane and Mulberry were two of the biggest shows on the line-up. Kane was the brilliant young designer who could find fashion in the most unlikely places: rubberised lace minis were inspired by “Princess Margaret on acid”; while illustrations from the 1972 classic The Joy of Sex appeared on slinky slip dresses. Mulberry was London’s home-grown It-bag brand: anyone who was anyone had a Bayswater or an Alexa.

Georgia O’Keeffe inspires the latest Calvin Klein while Michael Kors feels indebted to Alexander Calder

Calvin Klein has taken a highbrow turn in the two years since Veronica Leoni took charge. The Italian designer, a philosophy graduate who was schooled in the chic design studios of Jil Sander and Celine, has shifted away from jeans, boxer shorts and logos, stripping the brand to its minimalist bones: slip dresses and simple coats, slim skirts and crisp T-shirts.

Leoni called this the “discipline of removal”. Her muse this season was Georgia O’Keeffe, an artist who the brand’s namesake founder admired. Klein bought O’Keeffe’s painting Summer Days in 1983 for $1m, subsequently donating it to the Whitney Museum. A checked pattern taken from O’Keeffe’s distinctive capsule wardrobe of utilitarian chic appeared on this catwalk as a wrap coat, hardware-free with a fabric belt and no buttons.