It’s the late ’80s at a primary school in Colwyn Bay. We’re halfway through lunchtime and I’m doing a headstand against the wall while little feet run up and down the lawn in front of me. My technique is strong. I’m well balanced and can stay upside down for quite a while before I get dizzy. I’m not, however, focused. I’m conscious that the skirt tucked into my knickers will unravel and expose said knickers to all and sundry. And I’m not even sure I’ve got the right day of the week printed on the front of them. What I need, I think, are a pair of those shorts that look like a skirt that my mum’s mate’s daughter had on the other day…
Culottes! They’re back. Only this time they’re long. And wide.
I’ve seen them on the train, in my office and wandering around the streets of Farringdon. I’ve seen them with trainers and t-shirts, pointy boots and high neck tops, spiky heels and crop tops… they go with everything and everyone. They’re not fussy.
These walking adverts led me straight to Cos, where I slipped on a pair and fell in love. Instantly. This never happens. It’s a sign! They come in black, navy or green. They have wide legs, a dropped crotch and a high waist with pleats, plus a detachable tie. They’re completely unlike any other pair of trousers I own. They will be mine.
joie 