Brace yourself… the mini is back!

Midis and prairie dresses have reigned for the last few years, but now hemlines are rising – and they’re perfect for the new mood of optimism

in the late ’90s, the first thing I’d do after being dropped off at the school bus stop was roll up the waistband of my skirt until the hem skimmed the bottom of my blazer. Never mind that it created an unflattering tyre of scratchy fabric around my midriff, or that I’d inevitably be in trouble for failing to adhere to uniform policy – in the delicate social eco-system of my girls’ school, if you wanted to fit in you had to go short. If you wanted to be popular, you had to go too short.

But my DIY minis didn’t last long. Within a few terms I’d unrolled my skirt, allowing it to fall primly to my knees. I wish I could tell you it was a gesture of empowerment, a double-bluff rebellion. The truth, however, is sadder. As teen self-consciousness set in, I no longer felt I had the ‘right’ body for a short skirt. Being labelled a ‘boff ’ was far more palatable than showing off my legs, which remained confined to tights even in summer. Besides, I eventually discovered that visible thongs, bike shed cigarettes and boys were also effective modes of signifying adolescent rebellion, however high or low my hems were.

So, by the turn of the millennium, me and minis were done. Over. Finished. Recently, fashion has been kind to highhem refuseniks. We’ve found friends in Amishly-modest prairie dresses, dived into explosions of frothy tulle and cocooned ourselves in tent-like smocks. There’s a reason why that Zara spotty dress became a high-street phenomenon – midis are easy. Minis are a challenge.

But our luck has finally run out. This summer, the mini is unavoidable. According to global fashion shopping platform Lyst, while midis remain popular, leg-flashing styles are nipping at their heels, with searches up 29% in the past few weeks.

There they were at Hermès – the pinnacle of stealth luxury – in butter-soft leather; over here in stone-washed denim at Isabel Marant. Miu Miu’s microskirts were teamed with sportif tops; Louis Vuitton’s thighskimming dresses came worn with anklegrazing coats. At Chanel, hems were hiked up and proposed alongside boxy jackets, a sprightly rethink of the lady-who-lunches skirt suit. They were worn with ballet pumps at Dior, hi-tops at Celine and knee-high boots at Dolce & Gabbana.

A kick-back against all the slop and slouch and stretch of the pandemic wardrobe, summer 2021, with its swelling ‘anything is possible’ promise, feels like it was made for the mini. ‘We’ve all been in sweatpants for far too long – it’s definitely time to show our legs again,’ says Julia Restoin Roitfeld, who has just created a capsule collection for Hervé Leger that includes a do-you-dare short LBD. ‘The mini is liberating,’ agrees Giuliva Heritage’s Margherita Cardelli.

‘As we are about to be let loose in the world, naturally we are reaching for the most impractical, frivolous and fun item of clothing,’ says the journalist and broadcaster Camille Charrière, a dedicated – and stylish – short skirt devotee. ‘Minis are highspirited,’ agrees Ellie Pithers, a contributing editor at Vogue, who has a wardrobe full of them. ‘I do think that we’re having a post-pandemic reaction to being cooped up and cautious, and a miniskirt is an exuberant FU to lockdown restrictions.’

And what could be a better two-fingers up to the past year’s rigidity than chucking away your inhibitions? Diddy dresses – like the tropical-print number Precious Lee owned on the Versace runway – demand to be worn with bad behaviour and lashings of attitude. Newcomer Nensi Dojaka’s minidresses – a glamorous, sexy, cool triple threat – have become the ultimate in post-lockdown #goals. And wouldn’t you relish being the woman wearing a swingy, marabou-trimmed Saint Laurent dress, shimmying her way across a dance floor? According to the house’s creative director,

Anthony Vaccarello – who is continuing with the now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t hemlines for next season, ‘Fashion should be something you don’t take too seriously, especially now.’ A mini is a state of mind.

Indeed, belt-like skirts require authority on the part of the wearer. Could they be the pinnacle of power dressing in 2021? A sartorial totem of the women’s liberation movement in the ’60s, today they are still political. Combat boots and tailoring are ways of appearing ready for action – the mini is another. Wearing an unapologetically short skirt is an assertion of our right, as women, to wear whatever the hell we want, where we want, without fear of being hassled – or worse. It’s about reclaiming our sexuality and femininity on our own terms.

Still, minis remain off-limits for many of us. But, done right, they can be as easy (easier, some might argue) as a pair of jeans. ‘The mini can be intimidating,’ concedes Emma Reynaud of Marcia, the French brand setting Instagram alight with its brazen cut-out dresses. ‘I often match it with something simple that contrasts a bit with the sexy side, like a white T-shirt’. Balance helps: flat shoes, oversized shirting and longline jackets are your allies. And if you are still nervous around them? Tights.

Flats or heels, 80-deniers or bare legs, it doesn’t matter. The only non-negotiable for wearing a mini is confidence. As Kay Barron, fashion director of Net-a-porter, puts it, ‘If you feel you’ll be nervously tugging at the hemline, opt for a slightly longer length. But remember, if you feel great in a mini, that’s all that matters.’

But can I, 20 years after I last wore one, feel ‘great’ in one? I feel inspired to try. Slipping on Bottega Veneta’s powder blue minidress I do feel a galvanising liberation evoked not only by the high hem – given a gladiatorial swagger thanks to the fringing – but by the confidence that one only acquires when you realise there is no such thing as the ‘right’ body and that, ultimately, nobody else cares. It’s a moment of Proustian recall, taking me back to being the girl at that bus stop who felt like anything was possible. Because, this summer, it really feels like it might be.