Does my BUM BAG look big in this?

I do hope so, says RACHEL JOHNSON, as the style horror of the Eighties has had a bootylicious reboot

THERE are many fashion horrors from the 1980s that should be consigned to the dustbin of history: I’m talking perms, leotards worn over neon leggings and giant shoulder pads, to name just a few.

But there is one accessory from the era for which I would happily make an exception. The bum bag.

Half belt, half clutch bag, bum bags were once sported only by tourists and the Jane Fondas of the world who needed a place to store their Walkman while rollerskating.

Now the humble bum bag is back and, secretly, I’m thrilled.

For once I’ve been ahead of the trend. Five years ago, I bought a heavy black leather bum bag from Burberry but every time I wore it I could count the seconds until someone would ask, ‘What on earth have you got on?’ sounding like Lady Bracknell.

‘Is that what they call a… BUM BAG?’

But now they are totally a ‘thing’ again. The new designer ones – Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Gucci are all doing a version – fatly super-sized, covered with studs and dollar signs – and dripping with zips and chains. They’re officially cool. Which is great.

Celebrities of all ages have been papped with them, which means that I can bring mine out from its secret place in the deep wardrobe where I’d hidden it.

In fact, I wore it out all last week, and nobody laughed and pointed at me once.

Take Thursday night, for example. Over canapés at a book launch, model Catherine Bailey actually said ‘Loving your fanny pack!’ in front of David Bailey, her photographer husband. I am not making this up. Granted, they fall firmly into the category of garment known in the trade as ‘man-repellers’ (see also boiler suits, Birkenstocks, culottes, furry backless loafers) but the return of this derided and discarded accessory after decades of abuse is good news, as the item is the perfect receptacle for all the necessities for a night out: phone, keys, credit card, lipstick and reading glasses (in my case anyway) – and above all, it’s completely hands-free.

Of course, they’re hideous but, like socks with sandals, they are making a comeback.

This season they’re all over the catwalk as well as the sidewalk – see Bella Hadid in her gym sweats, wearing hers like a papoose, see Helen Mirren on the red carpet teaming it with a black pantsuit, or see even Fearne Cotton, who recently rocked a technicolour tasselled one like an outsize, Pocahontas-style sporran at a festival.

Their hideousness is the point, even their USP.

Like a backpack, ugliness merely accentuates their utility (along with the gorgeousness of the young model/actress wearer, of course).

They say: ‘I may be in an old T-shirt and Daisy Dukes but I still look hot even with my bulky carry-on hand luggage belted to my torso’ (Look out for Downton’s Lily James with her lavishly studded number).

So celebs from the Jenners to Rita Ora and even the bountifully bootied Kim Kardashian – the last woman in the world, frankly, who needs a bottom accessory of any description – are marching around NY-LON (That’s New York-London to you) with them as if required to by law – and fashion police be damned.

Just don’t tell me perms are coming back in fashion.