Fashion is an ever changing world of colours, styles and attitudes that seems to be governed by its own tides. As soon as one trend comes in, another is pushed out; but we can be sure it will return in ten, twenty or even forty years time. Are contemporary fashion designers and high street stores still influenced by the images that were popular during the 1960s? In our experience, very much so…

Fashion cycles more than Lance Armstrong

Take the flamboyant designer Ossie Clark. Rather than taking an interest in the monochrome mini dresses and platform shoes of the 60s this Lancashire born designer headed straight for the romantic look that has recently taken high street stores by storm. He made fringes, ruffles and floral patterns on thin, organic fabrics huge in 1965 and forty four years on we have no shortage of staggeringly similar ditsy print floor length dresses, tiered skirts and wide leg trouser suits with ruffle-collared blouses. Just as they did in the 60s, Cuban heeled tan leather cowboy boots with long hair and natural make up complete the look with these summery fabrics.

Ossie Clark. He’s on the right

There are plenty of examples of other 1960s fashion designers whose ideas have remained immortalised to this very day. Take Jean Varon’s empire silhouette for example. Okay, okay, so women have been wearing high waisted dressed with loose skirts since Cleopatra, but Jean Varon brought the style into mainstream 20th century fashion and it never left. Today, we can easily walk down the high street and buy an empire silhouette dress (often in magenta or royal blue) with a silver sequinned waist band. This style has gone from being only available in dresses to becoming a very popular style of evening top, too. These dresses weren’t and still aren’t worn with cowboy boots like ditsy print dresses are, though. Silhouette dresses would often be worn with a simple pair of pointed stiletto mules, because the fabric would reach the floor. Because the dresses are now usually shorter in modern fashion we’ve simply added a heel strap to create pointed stiletto sandals.

Jean Varon, Of course

Of course, the 60s was the decade that saw the great battle between the mods and the rockers and thinking back to that time generates some vivid images of fashion. Trilby hats worn with braces, shirts and skinny jeans is a look that has seen a definite resurgence in the past five years, after having become popular at the hands of the mods, in around 1964. Skinny jeans were actually made popular in the 50s by Elvis and other rock ‘n roll stars, and since they survived almost until the very end of the 60s they’re one of the longest-standing fashion trends in history.

Music has always shaped fashion

One popular design for contemporary evening wear is the boat-neck mini dress. Today these garments are often plain black and made of satin, as opposed to bright yellow or half black and the other side white as they often were forty years ago. They’re still worn in much the same way; with a cross-body envelope purse or clutch bag. It’s perhaps the colours of the 70s that have carried through to today, with dresses in bold pinks and fuchsias that Zandra Rhodes would adore. Young women used to wear two-tone t-bar heels with boat-neck mini dresses in the 60s and they still do now; an example of two separate styles that have travelled together through time. Even the asymmetrical poker straight and shiny hair of the mid 60s has come back; a ghost we’re actually particularly glad to be haunted by.

Hot pants and a coat?

Popular high heels in both the seventies and the noughties are brogues; traditionally a men’s shoe style from 1920s. These were eventually made available for Women and they were often sold in the two-tone leather style that remained popular for that entire decade. Today they’ve been made popular by celebrities such as T4 presenter Alexa Chung. We see nothing wrong with wearing brogue heels with another 70s trend; hot pants. Although they’re not usually denim in today’s high street stores, black or white satin hot pants with large round buttons on the thigh are hugely popular to wear on a night out (perhaps with one of those empire silhouette tops we mentioned earlier!).

In general, it’s the big 60s fashion designers that have the most influence on today’s trends. The classic Twiggy-esque  two-tone styles of Mary Quant and the romantic, floral and hippie ideas from Ossie Clark are starkly different, but somehow they still work and still give us a lot of choice in our outfits. The seventies has not had as much of a look in, but perhaps this decade will give us a prediction of what we’ve yet to come from fashion designers in 2009. Are you ready for the resurgence of glam rock, Marc Jacobs designer bell bottoms, or DKNY flower power? Let’s hope it’s not that extreme.

When I was growing up, my Mum documented each year by filling out a chapter of a book that some well-meaning relative had no doubt purchased when I came into this world. Along with a lock of my hair and a handprint my height, weight, likes and dislikes were written neatly in the book each year, along with one more piece of information – ‘What I want to be when I grow up”

So, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Of course, this changed every year, children are fickle and I was no different. My dream jobs changed from a ballerina to a marine biologist, from a paleontologist to a veterinarian, from an astronaut to a lawyer. You get the picture; I saw a few different futures laid out for me. One phrase never ever escaped my mouth, but is now uttered by children everywhere, kid and preteens alike “I just want to be famous.”

Paris Hilton (as if you didn’t know) what does she do?

On the surface this doesn’t really bother me so much. Who doesn’t want to be the best in their field? Back when being a celebrity actually required you to be celebrated for something, being a famous dancer, actress, designer or writer was a positive thing, a title attained when you had reached the peak of your chosen profession. In today’s context, celebrity has slightly different connotations, some tawdry, some tacky, some sleazy, and mention of the word is usually accompanied by involuntary rolling of the eyes by anyone with two brain cells to rub together.

I can put my arms around two people and smile

Yes, in these times of Heat magazine and throwing has-beens into the jungle to watch them squirm and eat animal genatalia, the idea of celebrity has been tarnished somewhat. It is no longer a private members club made up of the beautiful and talented, but a clapped out club in Essex when the bouncer has had one too many and decides to let everyone in. The opening of the floodgates led to the need for some kind of grading, a scale if you like. Now we have the A list, the Z list and a separate fenced-off area for that special breed ‘reality stars’ also known as “people who are famous for naff all.”

The worrying thing is that celebrity gossip is just so delicious and infectious that nobody is really safe from its grasp. I have worked in the beauty industry and with some of the most accomplished and intelligent veterinary surgeons I have ever met, and I can safely say that the staffroom in both environments is pretty much the same, a few umbrellas, a coat stand, a microwave and, most importantly, a mountain of well-thumbed gossip magazines on the table. Personally I’m torn on the subject: I disagree with the lengths the paparazzi go to in order to photograph people, yet if I don’t get my daily photo of Mary Kate Olsen holding a Starbucks cup my world grinds to a terrifying halt and the earth ceases to spin on its axis.

But where’s Mary Kate? I can’t see her! I can’t see her!

So why do people from all walks of life seem compelled to know the ins and outs of these people’s lives? Why do people who are old enough to know better ooh and aah at photos of Katie, Tom and Suri and judge the sartorial choices of award nominees? Simple. The world of celebrity offers us an escape and allows us to fulfill our most human of instincts whilst offending nobody. We all judge, and we all love a gossip, but it just wouldn’t be PC to tell Sharon from accounts that her arse looks the size of Mount Vesuvius in those pants or to tell Mike from HR that perhaps he should stick to a shandy on the next works do unless he wants to end up in the Priory. Instead we judge people we have never met, people we know everything and yet nothing about, because there are no repercussions, it’s almost encouraged, considered fair game.

Is it because we really wanna slag these guys off?

Although the caliber of our celebrities may have nosedived, millions of young people are still chasing fame. The same lure of escape is true for the high school girls who examine pictures of Katie Price and dream of being her. Fame allows them to get out of school in Slough or their bed-sit in Bolton. It gives them money, recognition, respect (somewhat debatable) and most importantly, it happens instantly. Why worry about studying for GCSE’s when you can wear two belts as a top and become tabloid fodder overnight? Why play gigs on the pub circuit when you can go to X factor boot camp and garner an instant following? Young people today are given the impression that anything is possible if they have a dream and want it badly enough, and maybe I’m cynical, but it’s only common sense to explore the fact that it doesn’t always happen. We can’t all be picked for Big Brother and we can’t all warble through an X-Factor audition (although granted that never really stopped the Cheeky Girls.)

Britain’s got Talent? In what? Astro-Physics?

So where will that leave our wannabe’s in a few years time? Will we end up with a generation of divas on the dole? A load of kids with no qualifications but a triple serving of attitude? Who knows, the Heat phenomenon is a recent one, and we are yet to see what kind of effect it will have on the children that scour its pages. Kids, if you’re reading this, carry on cutting out the pictures of Miley Cyrus at Starbucks, but maybe use them as bookmarks in your revision textbooks, because remember, even though you really are going to be a star, it never hurts to have a backup plan.

We all care about how we look.  Even those who say they don’t.  We all have gone into the shop and picked out that shirt or, mmm, that skirt.  We wouldn’t have chosen that item if we didn’t care how it looked.  Even that pair of black trousers or that grey shirt.  We chose them for a reason.

We all care about how we look

But why go buy that pair of harem pants?  Seriously.  You’ve got usually stunningly dressed women, the type us females want to emulate (if only we had the money and the lifestyle) but, then put them in the harem pants and you’ve got a walking disaster.  These grown ladies look like they’ve gone out wearing the most indiscreet of nappies.  If a toddler was walking around looking such like, their nappy would be changed, pronto.  Why would you want to look like that?  Why would THEY want to look like that?  Especially when these are the type of ladies who have a couple of thousand at their disposal to be able to afford that  much coveted Hervé Léger dress, or some other high-fashion designer’s work of art.

Rachel Stevens likes them. Must be good

I cannot walk into a high-street store without being ‘greeted’ by this monstrosity.  The MC Hammer pants.  I’m reaching a period where I feel I simply must pick up a pair (I’m thinking turquoise blue, or something, if I’m going to do this, I may as well go the whole hog) and try some on.  For a laugh, of course.  But I’m too scared.  What if, shock horror, a salesperson or fellow shopper thinks I’m picking them up because I like them.  Oh, the shame.

Please don’t touch this…..

And then, what if, as I’m trying a pair on and I walk out of my changing room so I can get a better look at myself in the full length mirror at the end of the room, another person is trying the same pair on?  What if they look over and smile at me and say I’ve got great taste?  I don’t know if I’d be able to hold in my breakfast anymore.  Really, I dislike these pants that much.  Then, what if my best friend tells me she loves harem pants.  I don’t know what I’d do.

Saying that, I used to hate the legging look.  I wasn’t quite as disgusted of those as I am nappy-pants.  Then, I saw so many girls wearing them.  And they looked good.  Not good as in yummy, but good as in ‘I want to look like that, too.’  But that’s different.  Leggings, worn under a long shirt, or a dress (of course, I’ll get to that in a second) can look amazing.  Worn with heals, the legs are elongated and the girl’s figure is shown off to advantage.  I’m still plucking up the courage to give this look a try. I fear by the time I get around to it, I’ll be looking unfashionable, as everybody’s walking around harem-ing it up.  (God forbid.)

I think you need changing

But, the legging look, you still have to be careful.  Yes, I was reading the online gossip news the other day, I admit, and I saw a picture of Ruth Lorenzo snapped and posted online.  Who, you ask?  Ah, she’s that girl from the X-factor.  Spanish.  Wooed Simon Cowell.  Yeah, that one.  Anyways, she was sporting the wet legging look.  Let’s just say I think the look could have (would have?) looked better, if instead of a short t-shirt, she’d have worn a longer top over the leggings.

There’s even a picture of her as she’s walking away from the stalking photographers where she’s covering up her bottom with her large handbag, as though even she’s aware perhaps it’s not the greatest look.  I’m not being intentionally nasty.  It’s just a point I’d like to make.  I don’t think, if and when I get round to buying a pair of leggings, I’d be walking out with a short t-shirt.  I’ve already a little bit planned what I’d wear with them. I’ve got a lovely long purple dress-top to wear over the top.  And my purple high heels.  At least Ruth got the heels part right.  That’s one point to her.

Didn’t she use to be a singer?

I just hope that I don’t mellow to harem pants as I did to leggings.  Woe forbid that day.  And I’m going to have to figure out what to say when I go out and one of my friends is wearing these nappy-pants.  Or perhaps I’m just missing something.  I wear glasses already, so I can’t really believe that I am.  I don’t know.  I’ll just have to wait for that day…

I was looking through a trashy, generic celebrity magazine, and went straight to the pap shots of these gods and goddesses amongst mortals. It’s my favourite bit. I want to look at Britney Spear’s nose with a bogey near it, Patrick Dempsey’s sweat patches and Amy Winehouse looking, well, like she does.

What’s she drinking? Will she fall over? Let’s hope so!

We sit at work all these hours infront of the computer screen (if we’re lucky) and love to gush over these celebrities with their annoying lives looking perfect, and we so like it even better when they fall off the pedestal we put under them. It makes our day! But, secretly want to be involved in their lives.

So: Hands up. Who wants to have a celebrity friend? Not a fake one, like I have sitting next to me when I type (they’ve just bought an Audi R8, they’re going to Dubai next week and a première tonight – I’m just having a chilli dog and will be playing Mario Galaxy till the wee hours). Who doesn’t want to be living their lives through someone else, well, better.

Tonight I’ll also be tweeting, not like a bird you understand, the madness, loneliness and credit crunch hasn’t gotten to me that much yet, I’ll be on Twitter….

Twitter isn’t just for nerds. But it helps.

Before you say, “Woah! Loser! I don’t wanna know what you’ve just did” Fellow celebrity follower, let me explain. They’re all on there. You can virtually smell the teak that is Stephen Fry, hear Ashton and Seth quip, follow (along with NBC) Stephen Colbert, Laugh with Britney and Beyonce Knowle’s sister and nod knowingly that Demi Moore is really quite cool.

Hell, I’ll even follow Greg Grunberg or Levar Burton (but not Will Wheaton I’m not that sad).

Nope. Won’t follow you Trek boy

You can also follow Jenna Haze and Stoya, but that’s another story.

Oh and I do follow them, I really, really, do. I tweet about my existence, and wait, eagerly for Demi or Christopher Walken to come online.  They tweet and I run up, jump to the computer and look for the @ button. I then reply to them in the most gushing, celeb praising way that I can possibly do. So for instance, they say, “Going out to Starbucks (I follow them as well), hope their Wi-Fi is working” I reply with something witty and interesting like, “Yeah. Me too.”

Why won’t they not talk to me?

I feel smug, happy and anxious for the next minute, hour, day and week, feverishly looking at my twitter page, refreshing it. F5, F5, F5 to see if they acknowledge my pitiful attempt to communicate with them. They never come back.

It’s sad but true, speak to me - speak to me!

I have other followers though, they are far down the pecking order. I reply to them, they come back to me instantly. It gives me no pleasure. They are not on a pedestal. I know that they work in customer support and have 32 fluffy pens on their desk and they like to drink soup on a Thursday.

This I know. I want Levar Burton to reply to me, acknowledge me as a friend. It is my right. I watched a Star Trek episode once. I gave him something, now give me something back.

One day it will happen. The A-listers won’t speak to me; I won’t get any interaction from mad Nick Nolte but will probably get an acknowledgement from someone who used to get Will Wheaton’s coffee.

One day it’ll be me

I will continue! If you are on Twitter, and a celebrity, drop me a mail and I will definitely gush over you at any given opportunity, in the vain hope that you’ll reply. If you’re not – don’t bother. Celebrities are all that count. But I dream of that day when I get a reply, or even *gasp* a direct message. Till then, I’ll keep tweeting and keep punning for that wonderful day to arrive.

Why not follow Catwalk on Twitter? It’s just getting going and will keep you up to date with all of our fashion and celebrity worship. And also general chat. And celeb stalking.