How these women became the key to high street success
There’s a new world order when it comes to fashion. Victoria Moss asks how a mum of four from Ramsgate can have as much, if not more, selling power as a supermodel
At the beginning of my career, I worked on a fashion title where we covered what famous women were wearing with forensic detail. Almost without exception, our picture round-up stories were very glamorous.
Sometimes you might get Gwyneth Paltrow snapped picking up a juice after yoga, or an Olsen twin meandering through New York City toting a giant Starbucks cup, but for the most part they were caught unawares, and looked grumpy rather than aspirational.
Generally, unless someone was standing in front of a branded “step and repeat” board or on the red carpet, we didn’t run their image.
We very rarely saw those women in their downtime, unmanufactured, styling themselves, working a pair of jeans with their shirt tucked in just so; or posing in the mirror so that you can see every teeny, tiny earring on their lobe; or maybe taking a selfie (we didn’t even know what a selfie was in those halcyon days) in a café; or lounging on a novelty inflatable in the pool at their holiday house. And, back in the dark ages, the only way to find out where Jennifer Aniston’s jeans were from was to wait until the end of the day and call her publicist in LA, who might, by the end of the week, let you know in time for deadline. But those were simpler times.
Now, we are inundated with celebrity imagery from the red carpet to the delivery room, with the protagonist telling us each and every detail of what she’s wearing in all of it. For some, every moment in life, famous or not, has become a personal branding opportunity, where you will show your best side, and your snazziest outfit, so that other people can show their appreciation for how pretty and well-dressed you are. Maybe they might also like to buy the lipstick you’re wearing, or that dress which falls artfully around your calves, as it should, given that you’ve spent 10 minutes twirling to get exactly the right amount of “hey this old thing!”
Entire brands exist purely because someone with a moderate following has “tagged” their photograph with what – or rather who – they are wearing. There are women who fund their comfortable existence through posing on Instagram and “working with brands” (being paid to wear clothes, to you and me). The most successful have a succinct visual message, whether that’s highly coordinated minimalism, a jaunty arresting print, or eye-popping colour.
Yet, a mega-celeb can wear something on their Instagram feed and the brand will feel little or no effect. But say, a mother-of-four from Ramsgate could wear that same jumper, and have it sell out. Target audiences are now so niche and specialist, that there is no straightforward formula to turning public attention into sales.
One such independent brand found themselves on Claudia Schiffer’s (1 million followers) feed – they had barely a sniff. But when Clemmie Hooper aka Mother of Daughters (542,000 followers) aka a midwife with four rather adorable children wears it, there is always a sales spike. A few years ago Schiffer, in her supremely chic cashmere knitwear, was frequently referred to as the queen of the school gates; the mum you’d most like to look like, yet probably wouldn’t want to run in to at drop-off.
Now, the women who personify “mumstyle” are “real” mums, who complain about messy kitchens, broken washing machines and lack of sleep. They offer an authenticity and relatability that women are now demanding from their style inspirations. They look a little more like you and me, and crucially, they’re wearing clothes from affordable, accessible places ie spot them in an
M&S dress and within three clicks you have bought it for yourself.
The most famous ones, like Hooper, are part of a phenomenon that has turned motherhood into a lucrative marketing opportunity. When the 34-year-old wore a black Boden swimsuit, it sold out. When it was restocked the following weekend there was a 108 per cent spike in sales. After wearing a dress by the mid-range occasion wear label Needle and Thread, the brand saw a 70per cent uplift in sales. Aside from the two books she has written on giving birth, last year she appeared in a Boden campaign, and has recently taken part in a series sponsored by Philips on British Vogue’s website.
This isn’t to say that “real” celebrities aren’t also getting in on this. The shrewd ones understand their incredible brand power. Like me? Then why not buy me… Paltrow is the arch arbiter
‘When Willoughby wears something, it sells out within hours. She is high street gold’
of this, turning her Goopy musings into a $250 million empire. See also Reese Witherspoon (14million followers) and the quaint, homey Draper James line (which she launched in 2015 with a £7 million investment and is now sold on Net-aporter), selling the pictureperfect Southern Belle dream, from pretty printed prom dresses and monogrammed stationery to T-shirts with schmaltzy slogans such as “love you more”.
Often, however, for a high street brand, it is the stars who are perhaps lower down the firmament who are proving essential for sales success. Holly Willoughby, 37, (3.9 million followers), everyone’s favourite sunny haired, bubbly morning cup of tea, has an extraordinary reach. Oasis report that when Willoughby wears something, it sells out within hours. The last time she did there was a
1,800 per cent uplift on sales. If she tags (identifies) a brand on the platform it experiences a halo effect. Finery – which sold out of a leather piece after she wore it – notes that its own followers jump up by 2,000, Oasis by 3,000 if she mentions them. Topshop, Debenhams and Warehouse have all seen the same impact from Willoughby’s patronage. She is high street gold. Unsurprisingly, she has a haircare contract with Garnier, and this autumn is launching a lifestyle brand called Truly, which sounds like a more down-to-earth version of Goop. Watch out Paltrow. But even the queen of daytime TV can’t beat a bona fide royal. It is the Duchess of Sussex who is the newest addition to the celebrity-sales-boom and at a high level. After the wedding, Net-a-porter saw full-price sales on Stella Mccartney (her second, evening dress) rise by 50 per cent. In direct reaction to this, the e-tailer invested 25 per cent more heavily into the designer’s autumn/ winter collection – specifically increasing its selection of gowns – and is already looking at increasing this again for next season. Getting something on to the Duchess is the PR coup that brands are salivating over (and that’s all they can do, the Palace returns any proposed gifts). It’s not just the fact that she wears it: when she does step out there is blanket coverage, with every single item documented for her ardent fans who relish every last detail (and try to buy it). Very few other famous women get this level of scrutiny.
But, why wait for the off-chance that these women might go out wearing what you want them to? More and more brands are hosting events and “holidays” in order for fabulous, good-looking people to entice us to spend. Net-a-porter took a bunch of “friends” to Tulum for a long weekend in June. Their frolicking in £1,000 sundresses saw sales increase by 95per cent in its vacation shop. It might be manufactured glamour, but that doesn’t seem to stop women being seduced by it. This is why Instagram is so useful. Brands can take control. Olivia Rubin is a designer who has found a resurgence of late, due to her snappy hued, visually striking designs (perfect scrolling catnip). When the million-follower-wielding triumvirate of Eva Chen, Aimee Song and Rocky Barnes all wore her rainbow skirt within 48 hours, her sales rocketed – as did interest from Us-based retailers. This sort of synergy isn’t always automatic though, serendipity helps, as does cold, hard cash. Some of these Insta-famous women can command from £1,500 to £30,000 for posting a picture of themselves in a particular brand. These posts will be highly curated, artfully shot, perfectly poised, but are under more scrutiny than ever before: the advertising standards authority is getting wise to the unregulated wild west of this narcissistic social media hawking. The crux of the new fashion order is that personality and likeability are key. So who do you want to look like? A movie star? A grinning-through-the-chaos mum? A daytime TV presenter? Or a duchess? There is now a “just like us” muse for all, if you want to buy into what they’re selling, of course.