Mrs May puts Egg on the fashion map
The Prime Minister’s photo shoot revealed a British brand beloved of style insiders. tries it on for size
The Tory-blue matching dress and coat from L.K. Bennett that Theresa May wore for her new US shoot with renowned photographer Annie Liebovitz was a safe, some might say predictable, choice. But a second outfit, of slouchy red canvas coat (£450) and sixply, hand-framed grey cashmere sweater (£1,200) from Egg, a British brand known only by the fashion cognoscenti, proved a more intriguing selection. And one perhaps better in keeping with May’s eclectic fashion preferences, which range from Vivienne Westwood’s tartan suits to Amanda Wakeley’s leather trousers.
While you may not have heard of the brand, and there was some speculation the clothes were called in by stylists, it appears that May specifically requested Egg for the shoot, herself.
Far from being a new kid on the block, like Erdem or Roksanda Ilincic (labels favoured by Samantha Cameron), Egg has been operative since 1994 – the brainchild of Maureen Doherty, who trained as a pattern cutter and was mentored by Issey Miyake, whom she regards as a genius.
Preferring to call herself “a developer”, rather than a designer, Doherty takes much of her inspiration from vintage finds picked up on her travels, working quietly under the mainstream fashion radar, while attracting paeans of praise from devoted customers, who include Dame Maggie Smith, Tilda Swinton and more recent convert Diane Keaton.
Over the years, I’ve known a few Egg advocates. They’ve tended to be in professions like design, art and architecture – and to eschew mainstream fashion. The kind of people who would rather cut out a label than brandish it for all to see. You might recognise Egg if you’re in the know, but certainly you won’t see the name on the inside of the collar.
Fittingly, then, its lone store is tucked away in a mews-style Knightsbridge backstreet, in quirky premises that have been converted from interconnecting garages, which were once a working dairy (the original blue wall tiles were uncovered during Doherty’s restoration).
The Egg aesthetic is a perfect reflection of the personal taste of its idiosyncratic creator. Doherty doesn’t do zips, for example. In fact, she hates zips: skirts wrap around the body, so if you gain or lose a little weight they can expand or shrink to fit. She doesn’t do body-con, either.
“My clothes are about comfort. You don’t have to think about your stomach because something is tightfitting. Or whether you need tights because your skirt is above the knees.” Doherty definitely doesn’t do short.
What she does do is layers: baggy trousers worn under a skirt, shirts worn under jackets worn under coats. Clothes that stand away from the body in luxurious linens, cottons, canvas and cashmere.
Wandering round the whitewalled shop, with its creamy painted wooden floorboards, one is struck by the sense of being in a gallery, viewing a carefully curated collection of artworks. It’s not only clothes you can buy, but unusual a Japanese tea caddy, for example, or soap manufactured in Yorkshire by the oldest soap-maker in Europe. Doherty seeks out artists, too, and was the first to display the porcelain of ceramicist and memoirist Edmund de Waal.
Perhaps because they don’t have huge hanger-appeal, the garments themselves are cleverly displayed on hooks on the wall, enabling whole outfits to be shown at once. Topped with a floppy hat or scarf, you can imagine how you might combine pieces for yourself.
In truth, I’m wary about trying anything on: being on the skinny side I fear being swamped under the layers and the volume. What transpires is a revelation; comfortable, chic and pleasingly substantial. It occurs to me that not only are the clothes ageless but timeless, too. Paying no lip service to the season’s latest must-haves means you could go on wearing them for years.
A grey cashmere sweater, a slightly shorter version of the one May wore in
is so soft, so cosy and luxurious to the touch that I never want to take it off. And so eye-wateringly expensive that if it were ever unfortunate enough to encounter a moth, Egg at least guarantees to repair it for you.
Before I leave, Doherty calls me to her studio to meet a customer – the US designer, Donna Karan. “I only wear my own clothes and Egg,” she declares. She never goes to bed without her Egg white shirt. The full Egg she reserves for her beachside retreat.
It may not be to every woman’s taste, or within every woman’s budget, but having joined clothes-loving Theresa May’s refreshingly varied favourite fashion brands, Egg is now likely to be a name on many more women’s lips. From brogues to kitten heels to velvet flats, May has been spotted in a range of Russell & Bromley styles, including the patent thigh-high boots she wore with the Egg outfit for Specialising in feminine tailoring, Wakeley’s luxe, smart designs often come with a unique point of interest. May wore her fluorotrimmed coat on her first day in the job. Although May has now retired her tartan suit, we can deduce from its many outings that she’s fond of the British-inspired prints and sharp tailoring.