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Sarah Mower, Telegraph UK
Never mind the credit crunch, high street retailers are in a bad way because their clothes are bland and badly made from poor fabrics, says Sarah Mower
Has fashion apocalypse hit the high street?
You scarcely need to listen to the biblical chorus of retailers blaming the credit crunch, the weather, energy bills (anything but themselves) to see the evidence that this spring women have risen up, taken a look round the shops, pulled a face - and kept their plastic in their purses.
Clock the fact that the "mid-season sale" has arrived in so many places before the "season" has even got going (with barely a moment to clear winter's discounted leftovers) and there's only one thing to conclude: sorry, but we just don't like these clothes that much.
As Womenswear Daily, the trade oracle of US fashion, put it last week: "fashion had it coming". In an industry that is usually so supportive of its own (often to the point of sycophancy), you don't normally hear this kind of talk. Actually, make that never. But, at the designer level, buyers have finally broken ranks, criticising insane prices, drab colour, the wrong fabrics, deliveries of coats in high summer and bikinis in January, plus the fact that women are "programmed to wait for sales".
Most devastatingly to my mind, though, is the pointing of fingers at the lack of a general trend that is powerful enough to override all external constraints and make us run to the shops.
It's as simple as this: unseasonal weather and financial panic apart, these days you have to be in love with something to want to buy it. That applies as much to the merchandise on the high street as it does to the contents of department stores, where price tags for not-even-that-special dresses broke into four figures ages ago. And much as our high street giants keen and wail about plunging consumer confidence, rising mortgage rates and monumental credit card debt, they are failing on that front.
A horrible combination of bland styles (they're terrified to commit to anything "extreme") and the flimsiest, worst-quality fabrics that I have ever seen (blame China) has swept the stores. Frankly, in some cases, I'll be surprised if they're able to give the stuff away.
I know this because last week, with a light step, I set out with my daughters, aged 14 and 12, for an Easter holiday spree in the West End. OK, I am not that much in the mood for spending, but even fear of bank statements has to be reined in when two girls have grown out of most of their clothes.
So we did Zara, H&M, Gap, Warehouse, Uniqlo, Miss Selfridge and Topshop. When I say that after four hours we returned with a solitary sleeveless sweater found in the back of the Regent Street Gap, you can judge just how bad it was.
It was not that I was saying "no" to them. As we dragged ourselves ever more despondently from shop to shop, there were no hissy fits, only ineffable teenage sneers as they rejected tacky dresses in see-through fabrics, badly made jackets, limp knitwear, nasty jeans and miles of last season's smock tops and boring T-shirts - dozens of which are already stuffed in their cupboards.
In the end, I was the one trying to herd them into changing rooms with arms full of not-quite-right stuff that might turn out to be just this side of OK when tried on. Nothing worked.
We'd have all gone home in tears were it not for the fact that the 14-year-old insisted we went to Abercrombie & Fitch, where you do at least get a good gander at "fit" boy sales assistants with their shirts off. When it came down to it, she didn't love anything there, either, but it cheered us up a bit.
I was so disturbed by this experience that I went back to check other stores. I found a couple of spots of brightness: Reiss looked confident, French Connection vastly improved; I liked the little black dress collection at Oasis, and a couple of Osman Yousefzada's limited-edition pieces for Mango.
I could also understand why Inditex, the parent company of Zara, is reporting strong sales in the teeth of the downturn. Zara has always left me cold, but Inditex also owns Massimo Dutti, which does grown-up Euro-smart well, and it's opening hundreds of stores globally, an accounting fact that makes its figures look good.
Otherwise - since we are now in the mood for plain-speaking - I must be honest. From M&S on, most of the high street is now one long drag of clothes that insultingly underestimate a woman's taste, self-esteem and tolerance of rubbish fabrics and terrible fit. The phrase "the race to the bottom" - that thing retailers have been calling rampant price deflation ever since Chinese cheapo manufacturers came on the scene - kept coming to mind as I looked around.
Well, the bottom's been hit. And the ones who have "won" that race - all those greedy, cynical retailers who have lost touch with the value of great shop-keeping and what makes women love fashion - are, when the figures come out, about to be proved the biggest losers.
• I know it's about time we all shut up about Madame C B-S, but I can't help putting my two ha'p'worth in about her crying need for no-heel footwear.
Frankly, she hasn't sorted it out for evening - peep-toed ballerinas just don't do it with a state-occasion gown - but the solution is staring her in the face: Alexander McQueen's embroidered and bejewelled slippers (above left), shown in Paris a few weeks ago.
Oh, and why doesn't she get one of his white muslin directoire dresses while she's at it? Couldn't be more perfect for playing Josephine to her little Napoleon.
• Since "low-ticket" items - things that give a practical buzz for little outlay - are said to be the ones that will keep selling even in a depression, I've put myself on alert to track down fashion bits and pieces that qualify.
Here's the first: a custom-made pair of Nike trainers, a little piece of up-cheering bespoke footwear. When put to their intended use, they will a) save money when you run everywhere instead of taking public transport or driving; b) help the planet by cutting carbon emissions; and c) help release mood-enhancing endorphins to fight off depression.
Amazingly, this virtuous package costs a mere £90, after you make an appointment at the design studio at Niketown in Oxford Circus to conjure up your own pair on screen. You get to play with a fantastically vibrant range of summer colours and the shoes get delivered in two to three weeks. Being phobic about hi-tech trainer culture, I "made" a classic Dunk Lo, coloured it turquoise, purple, green and white, and had my name embroidered in red on the back. Good run for your money, I'd say.
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