Can you ever justify blowing £1,000 on one fashion item?
The PM did on those leather trousers. Here, guilt-stricken writers confess to their costliest triumphs and disasters
So would you spend the best part of £1,000 on an item of clothing? Prime Minister theresa May did — £995 Amanda Wakeley leather trousers she recently wore for a photoshoot, which brought her a plethora of compliments and attention.
But they also sparked rather snide comments from former education Secretary Nicky Morgan, who said they ‘sent the wrong message to voters’.
Mrs Morgan made the intervention despite being regularly photographed with a £950 Mulberry handbag — proving even the pious are not above temptation, when it comes to something they adore.
But can spending over £1,000 on something as frivolous as fashion ever be justified? eight Femail writers reveal their best — and worst — four-figure blow-outs.
MISSONI COAT HELPED ME OVER MARRIAGE SPLIT Bel Mooney, 70
CLOTHES and labels really don’t interest me. I’ve never understood women who are so utterly absorbed by the lettering on a tag in their coat, or dress, or whatever. that’s not to say I don’t enjoy spending money — I do — but my weaknesses are art, books, theatre tickets and of course, my family.
But spend £1,000 on a coat? I always considered it utter madness. that was until a day in 2006, when I found myself outside a boutique in Kensington. My marriage to journalist Jonathan Dimbleby had ended two years earlier, and my life had changed beyond all recognition. I had changed, too.
I had this feeling of being different, and as I looked in that shop window it struck me I could do exactly what I wanted. For years I’d been a wife and mother, living on a farm, and here I was, a single woman who could, if she wanted to, buy a £1,000 Missoni coat.
It wasn’t the label I looked at first, it was the beautiful cut, lapels and zig-zag pattern. It was a rich shade of purple too, a colour I adored. I tried it on, and it felt like it was made for me. then I looked at the price.
My first reaction was: ‘I can’t possibly spend that!’ then, a heartbeat later, I thought: ‘ Yes I can, and I’m going to.’
I have worn it every winter since, and people still comment on my beautiful coat. But I’m relieved to say that was my first, and last, true ‘blow-out’.
DRESS TO WOW ’EM AT ROYAL PREMIERE Daisy Goodwin, 54
I Bought this dress for the premiere of the ITV show I wrote, Victoria, at Kensington Palace. I wasn’t going to buy a new dress, but then I thought: ‘this is my first TV drama, it is going to be shown at Kensington Palace, and I’m going to be standing next to the fabulously beautiful ( and tiny) Jenna Coleman, who played Victoria, on the red carpet, so I need something that’s going to make me look as good as I can.’
Actors have stylists, but I have my fashion savvy daughter Lydia, 16, who spotted this dress from Dolce and gabbana on the website Net-a-Porter, and said: ‘Mum, this is the one — glam but not embarrassing.’ Perfect for both of us, then.
Four hours later the dress arrived by courier in the website’s signature back bag and as I put it on I had to agree my daughter was right.
Dolce and gabbana are the masters of the little black dress, and this one clings and forgives in all the right places. With the right shoes and some strategic make-up, I felt ready for the red carpet.
Yes, it was unbelievably expensive, around £1,100 or so, more than I have ever spent on anything in my life, but I have no regrets at all.
It was my present to myself for a year of unbelievably hard work writing Victoria, and, as they say in L’oreal land, I really feel that I am worth it.
Sometimes you do get what you pay for, and the boost of looking good rather than ‘embarrassing’ at one of the most momentous moments in my life, was worth every penny. And as my daughter points out, she can wear it when she is old and fat like me . . .
KITCHEN BETTER THAN CHANEL BAG Clover Stroud, 41
the biggest blow- out in my wardrobe was not totally of my instigation. two Christmases ago my husband Pete presented me with a big, wrapped box and watched, gleefully, as I unwrapped it. It was a beautiful, vintage, Chanel bag — the size of a tote.
While it was technically purchased by Pete, I have to confess it was the result of my rather heavy hint-dropping.
how many years had he listened to me lusting over bags like this? I’d always wanted one, for as long as I could remember. I envied those of my more wealthy friends and my wonderful, generous husband decided to surprise me.
So why did I feel so utterly shocked and guilty? Well, it cost over £2,000 for a start, and when I looked at that beautiful bag, all I could see were all the trips to the supermarket it represented, or a granite worktop for the kitchen, or those bookshelves we needed building in the sitting room.
of course, I gushed my thanks and was incredibly grateful but . . . £2,000! Really?!
today, I still feel incredibly guilty whenever I use it. I’m never relaxed when it’s on my shoulder either, convinced, even in my scruffiest coat and boats, that it’s calling out: ‘Profligate woman over here! Come and mug me!’
It hardly fits with my lifestyle as a busy mother-of-five, either. I’m so much happier with high Street clothes and handbags from M&S — show-off designer purchases just aren’t me.
£8,000 AND THE SEQUINS FELL OFF Jaci Stephen, 58
TEN years ago, when I was working part-time in southern Spain, I became friendly with ex-Dragons’ Den star theo Paphitis and his wife Debbie.
After a jolly afternoon on their yacht (I’ll admit more than a little alcohol had been consumed), I went back to shore and, believing I was as rich as theo, passed Chloe and fell in love with a sparkly, Sixties- style dress in the window. Sequins and rosé are a lethal combination.
Despite it being nearly 12,000 euros (round about £8,500 at that time) and not even in my size, the assistant lured me with a glass of champagne, assured me there were only six in the world and that Kylie Minogue had one.
that was it: I had to have it. Naturally, I had to buy shoes (another grand) and bag (yet another grand) to go with it. I’ve had butter dishes bigger than the latter, so it proved totally useless for carrying anything more than a lipstick.
In a desperate state of buyers’ remorse, I tried to get my money back the next morning, but the store was having none of it.
So, I wore it to the party but realised I’d made an even bigger mistake when the sequins started to fall off before I even got out of the cab.
I returned to the shop again the following day, sobbing, but they refused a refund again, this time on the grounds that the dress was ‘haute couture’ and not meant to be worn at parties: ‘ It’s meant for the
catwalk,’ they said. Honestly, when did they think would ever walk down a catwalk?
Months of threatened legal action later, they agreed to a refund, but only with a credit note.
So I ended up with 17 useless items from that store, none of which I’ve ever worn — and a credit card bill that haunted me for years.
I £1,000 DRESS BETTER VALUE THAN PRIMARK Alice Smellie, 43
ALMOST 15 years ago, working on a glamorous fashion magazine, I was invited to a BAFTAS party.
I’ve never — before or since — been so excited about a night out. But there was no worry about buying a new dress. I had my secret weapon, a long purple evening dress from English Eccentrics. It cost me £1,200 a few months earlier and it remains best ever sartorial investment.
My dress was bought in a panic when I was invited to a ball in Gloucestershire. As a london girl, I had any number of little sparkly cocktail dresses, but nothing that I felt was quite right for a marquee in the middle of nowhere. So I went hunting down the King’s Road in Chelsea and came across a dress so lovely and so expensive it made me sweat with longing and guilt.
I rose above such petty considerations as bills and food, and handed over a large proportion of my monthly wage. Although I was just married, we didn’t have children so had what I vaguely remember as being ‘disposable income.’
I’ve worn it for almost every ball, cocktail party and 40th birthday party to which we’ve been invited ever since. It hasn’t lost its shape, the embroidery is as bright as the day I bought it and it is still reasonably flattering.
Is there any defence for a £1,000 dress? Absolutely. I’ve worn it so much, when it comes to cost per wear it’s cheaper than Primark.
SEXY SKI SUIT BUT I’M RUBBISH AT SKIING Julia Stephenson, 54
DESPITE skiing since I was eight years old and spending one winter as a chalet girl, by my 20s I was still hopeless at skiing. While all my chalet girl pals glided elegantly down the black runs, I was much happier on the same, easy blue run over and over again.
to add to my humiliation, the company I worked for insisted employees wore an unbecoming bright yellow ski suit. I couldn’t even look good when standing still!
So as soon as my season was over I decided to take action. I bought a flashy, pillar box red ski suit from the winter wear designer to the stars, Sam de teran, which cost me £1,400. It had shoulder pads (this was the Eighties, OK), was very tight and shiny and hugged my bottom. I looked like Ivana trump — only Ivana was a ski champion, whereas I could barely get down the mountain without falling over. I couldn’t live up to this overpowering outfit at all. People used to assume I was a fantastic skier, but then see me gingerly inch down the slope. I only wore it a handful of times before I gave up skiing for good. I wore the suit a few more times, mainly at Eighties retro parties, where I dressed up as Ivana trump. Eventually I donated it to a charity shop.
SEDUCED BY A SUIT IN VENICE Linda Kelsey, 64
VENICE 1987, with the man I loved. After feasting on crab linguine, accompanied by a few Bellinis ( that sublime nectar of champagne and peach juice which was invented right there), a young woman’s thoughts inevitably turn to . . . well, shopping, of course.
I had never tried on a Giorgio Armani outfit before, though I’d been coveting one for years. the moment I saw myself in the mirror in the greeny/taupe doublebreasted trouser suit that fitted absolutely perfectly I knew I had to have it.
It was so chic, so sharp yet feminine, that I barely looked at the price tag which in any case was in lira and involved squillions of noughts which in my squiffy state I couldn’t convert.
In an instant I’d whipped out my credit card and spent £1,200, the equivalent of at least £ 6,700 in today’s money. But although I felt terribly guilty when the champagne wore off, I never regretted it.
As editor of Cosmopolitan magazine, it became my cloak of courage. Whenever I needed a confidence boost, out came the suit.
then one day, about five years down the line, I caught myself in the mirror and realised the trousers were too wide, the shoulders too padded, and my ‘classic’ suit was distinctly out of date.
I took it to my local charity shop. I hope they got at least £10 for it!
I WORE BALMAIN TO THATCHER’S FUNERAL Sarah Vine, 49
ASIDE from my wedding dress, I’ve only ever once blown the budget on a single item of clothing: a vintage Balmain coat from the Forties. Black, naturally, in wool crepe and with a lovely old-fashioned, slightly military shape. Price tag: £1,000.
Exquisite though it is, I’ve regretted it almost from the moment I bought it. Because although it is very beautiful, and handy for moments of high drama (I wore it to the funeral of lady thatcher), it’s far too grand for me.
It really deserves a lot better than to be walking the dogs on Wormwood Scrubs. In fact, I almost feel sorry for it, poor thing, languishing in my Ikea wardrobe alongside items of a far more dubious pedigree, like an aristocrat fallen on hard times.
What seduced me (apart from the fact that it fitted me like a glove) was the dream lifestyle it represented. When I wore it I felt instantly stylish, like the sort of woman who might have proper silk underwear and a drawer full of neatly folded cashmere sweaters.
Sadly like all fantasies, it never quite lived up to expectations. or perhaps that was me. Either way, never again: next time it’s John lewis all the way.