Back to the beautiful basics
I’ve started to wear leggings outside of the house. Not in an ironic, I saw it on a Chanel catwalk way (although I did, and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely against it), but more of a “these stretchy things are really pretty comfy and I don’t have to worry about doing up the waistband” way.
I do a solid black one from Good American (£95, Selfridges.com) – they are the perfect thickness, and have a high waist, which means they skim nicely over the gusset area, because skimming is crucial when it comes to Lycra and nether regions. These are not that cheap, but you can also do actual exercise in them should the mood take. I’ve worn and washed mine loads, there is no knee sag or transparency. They are, dare I say it, because of the matt-thickness, some way towards flattering.
The thing is, once you get into the admittedly slippery slope of everyday Lycra, it throws up a whole host of other issues. For me, this is primarily the addition of a chunky enough trainer or even boot, to off-set my thighs. Then there is the thankless mission of finding a top that covers my backside – again, a non-negotiable. I’m also mulling over the addition of a longline blazer on top, but that would cement my move into assimilating offduty with “being in fashion” and I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.
So while on the one hand leggings are an easy-fit, easy-on, comfy solution to Saturday style, they also force a sharp consideration of the rest of your basics package. The problem is there is nothing simple about tracking down perfect versions of easy pieces, which you’d like to form the core of your wardrobe. In addition to this, with fashion’s predilection for emblazoning naff slogans or brand names over its merch, the current onslaught of “festive” adornment, and the prevailing mood that rates items on how Instagrammable they are, simple, useful, well-made wardrobe pieces can get left behind.
As ever though, if you look beyond the obvious, you can find outliers doing good work. If you’re someone who remembers when The
Gap really was great, and American
Apparel was at its (excellent) peak, you may be interested here.
I’ve recently found it hard to want to wear anything else except this stripy T-shirt from Ninety Percent (£45, ninetypercent.com). It’s stripes, but not in an obvious tired-breton way, which makes you feel smart and pulled together, in a very good organic cotton and cut properly oversized (leggings friendly, for sure). The brand also has a cheering stance – it will donate
80 per cent of its profits to charities nominated by its customers, 5 per cent to the people who make the clothes and 5 per cent to the brand founders.
Its commitment to using organic cotton and other fabrics which are sympathetic to its environmental impact is also notable. What do you need to do for longevity? Make something that will always hit the spot. Farnol, which was set up by 28-yearold Mitchel Farnol, is another with a strong will to do this. He saw a “gap in the market that offers seasonal basics and an everyday price.” There is no wholesale element so he is able to make up his margins by cutting out the middle man. Farnol is largely Pima cotton and natural fibres. There are more of those edgier harder-striped T-shirts, tracksuits and hooded jumpers, but also good cashmere crewnecks for £98, a long-sleeved black silk jumpsuit for £120 and brilliant worker-style shirts in black, cream and navy at £58. Like Ninety Percent, it’s basics but with a sharp nuance of design. The hooded jumpers have thick drawstrings and shaped hoods impressively priced at £35.
Farnol’s ethos is the opposite to the disposable fast fashion fare that dominates the high street; his clothes are keenly priced, but they are also crafted for longevity. He has recently launched a small collection with the notable British menswear designer Lou Dalton. I have this cream puffer coat and it is ideal – the perfect amount of puff (ie, not too much) and a great fit (£140, farnol.com).
The common thread with these brands is that they all operate on a genderless premise, most items exist for men and women, or indeed whatever you might be in-between. The idea of gender neutral clothing works in this context, as fit is more fluid than structured pieces. Equally, this flush of newbies all come with a strong core of wanting to do things a little differently, and with a laudable sense of responsibility. Riley Studio is another label very much sticking to the elevated sportswear look, but without elevated prices. As well as using organic and recycled cotton, it also uses material created from plastic and other waste. This is not entirely without problems but there is nothing straightforward about trying to do ethical good within the textiles sphere, and Riley Studio – run by Riley Uggla and Laura Inneshopkins – has partnered with Human Rights Watch and is focusing on its commitment to creating sustainable solutions in the supply chain.
The idea of timeless pieces is also at the heart of what these brands are doing – these are clothes that you can wear for years, over and over again. I have a pair of the tracksuit bottoms made from recycled nylon – they feel almost like a soft neoprene, are very comfy and don’t lose shape – plus they have a slightly smarter sheen that the average tracksuit – somewhere between a legging and a tracksuit bottom, which for me, is a sweet spot (£120, riley.studio).
If you like that oversized, louche yet pulled together look then you should get familiar with Stalf, and its easy wear pieces – wide cut heavy linen trousers, skirts and dresses – plus soft jersey tracksuits, sweaters and T-shirts. Run by Paris Hodson and based in Lincolnshire, pieces are made to order, so while there is a two week turnaround for most things, with quality fabrics sourced from a small mill in Ireland, it is very much worth the wait.
Finally, if you are sloping around in loosely cut pieces, for me a hefty shoe to balance it out is key. I’ve taken on a new admiration for a Birkenstock fluffy sandal (with socks, sure) recently, but I’m also pretty into these trainers by Primury, a collective of three fashion industry stalwarts on this as a part-time passion project. Handmade in Portugal, the soles are composed of 50per cent recycled rubber – there are also leather-free styles within the collection – which might be more expensive than your average trainer but will last far longer. Which ultimately, when it comes to good basics, is really the whole point. Sign up to our fashion newsletter for your weekly slice of the Telegraph’s best fashion content