DRESSING FOR A MISSPENT YOUTH

Home

Written by Alice Holloway-Smith - Wednesday, 25 August 2010

I first stumbled across ‘Let them eat cake’ whilst embarking on a whimsical google episode; Children’s Tailcoats - a wild goose chase sure to waste hours on a grizzly afternoon, but unlikely to turn up any trumps. I was more than surprised to find that there was in fact a children’s clothing brand making tiny tail coats. Sweet little tailcoats for sweet little girls no less. Imagine my delight when I deduced that this cream and navy striped gem could be purchased guilt free; made, as it was, in the UK from reclaimed vintage textiles. Frankly, I would wear it myself if a size 8 could take the strain of my post eating-for-two charms*.

As a burlesque loving, eco aware, junk shop trawling mother (who was christened after Little Miss In-wonderland herself), Let Them Eat Cake fulfills all my fantasy clothing fantasies. The Spring/Summer 2010 collection was the textile equivalent of Dodi Smith’s classic I Capture the Castle. A triumph for bygone romance, which is predictably absent in the sea of pink currently flooding the high street, oversized buttons and floral prints steered a course well clear of Kidston-esque, and arrived fashionably late at Mr M. Hatter’s just in time for a slice of unbirthday cake.

I was lucky enough to glimpse a preview of Autumn/Winter, whilst visiting ‘Enamore’s Jennifer Ambrose at her studio above ‘The Makery’ in Bath (Felicity Lynch, designer in chief, is a fellow Bath resident and roped Jenny in for sampling purposes). Although I would have loved to see this season develop the dandy flavour budding in the previously mentioned tailcoat (mine will never be ‘pretty’ pretty girls), I was still taken with the ruffle shouldered party dress. The frivolous cuts are still intriguing (some garments are rumoured to require a decadent eight pattern pieces) and certain to be a talking point at even the most boho antenatal class reunions.

Embarrassingly smitten I may be, but I defy anyone who owns/covets bunting to resist the overexposed sepia tones of Lynche’s adorable photography. Or the A. A. Milnian graphics- supplied by her also very talented husband. Or the petulant stares of her ravishing daughters. Or, for that matter, the dusky-pink upholstered rococo piano stool.

If your fairy Godmother’s otherwise engaged and you’re a touch restricted by the ‘made in England’ price tag, then www.mashngravy.com has a few choice items left in their sale - spare a moment for the organic cotton Balibio Bloomers whilst you’re there.