Why classics are more important than ever

I wrote an article about what makes a classic recently, Hermes Cape Cod pictured being a future one I reckon. I spoke to Alfie Tong about this, the brand consultant you may have spotted in the Guardian last Saturday talking about how stylish he thinks is! (He is actually one of the most stylish people I know). The Italians, he said, have a wonderful word for classic style - spezzatura, which roughly means to work at performing an action with the outward appearance of effortless grace. It's why Italians wear blue suits with brown shoes and shoes with no socks - contrived effortless. This makes me think of Kate Moss and sums up what style today is all about.

Another insight I discovered was that classics are becoming more popular again because they represent assurance. David Wolfe at retail consultancy Doneger Group, has said, 'People are scared about social security, the environment, the geopolitical situation. We are looking for security. Classics give people the sense of assurance they're looking for.'

People crushes & The Nose

Recently, I've been having what I call 'People crushes' upon meeting new people and instantly hitting it off/becoming in awe of them. I definitely had this with Ivan Pollard. And with Collyn, my new collaborator. And just tonight, perfume expert Catherine Mitchell. 

Catherine was hosting a talk called 'The Nose' as part of the Barbican's wonderful Viktor & Rolf season. She offered interesting analysis of what makes a hit scent. She gave CK One as an example - a unisex, neutral scent for a generation plagued by AIDS in which advertising clearly made a vital contribution.

In Deluxe: How Luxury Lost its Lustre, there's an excerpt where author Dana Thomas interviews the great nose (what a lovely job title) Jacques Polges and he bemoans the fact clients are always asking him to create a 'classic' perfume. He says classics can't be designed, it's about the magic that happens when you create something consumers didn't know they desired.

This is bringing back the olfactory backdrop of my youth. The Body Shop's White Musk anyone? Or Ananya? Bloody Dewberry and Fuzzy Peach? Buying soaps and "smellies". Classic, British 14-year-old girl smells, add a splash of Frizz-Ease and unwashed P.E. kit and I could almost be back at Waingel's Copse. 

I almost forgot Impulse. I adored the old Impulse ads. Deodorant was aspirational. Impulse made me think of being a grown-up, sassy 19-year-old. There is something about idealising particular ages when you're a teenage girl, particularly the odd numbers - 15, 17, and 19.