In a world where every celebrity from Hollywood to Harlow is whipping up endless brands as add-ons to their marketing oeuvre, thank God, frankly, for Phoebe Philo. There she quietly popped back into fashion land with a timely reminder of what style actually looks like. No over-the-top, feckless celebrity-packed front row. No camera-baiting theatrics; no obsequious interviews with gushing tales of mood boards; not a single Instagram post to her massing 370k followers to a comically empty page.
At a time when brands feel bizarrely obliged to bleat into the void about core values, posting sanctimonious and mawkish shallow ‘opinion’, wasn’t it bliss to have a blackout from the onslaught of pretentious reflection? When typical fashion houses are falling over themselves to dress and book Instagram’s most insufferable filler-full offerings, isn’t it divine to have a campaign of real-looking women, of all ages, faces worn beautifully with age, scant of make-up, looking slightly imperious in their new Philo-armour.
