LIZ JONES FASHION THERAPY PVC is all over the catwalks — but can any woman look fantastic in plastic?

Shine on: PVC as seen on the Jonathan Saunders catwalk

There is nothing new in fashion.



The most headline-grabbing fabric on the autumn/winter catwalks was PVC, as seen at Jonathan Saunders, who sent out a wet-look dress with red lace bodice (or I could have seen it, were I not barred from his shows).



It was also to be found at Burberry, where everything looked shiny and — almost — new, and covered in raindrops, and at Topshop, with its sticky-out shiny orange skirts.



But, of course, we have seen it all before.



PVC, or polyvinyl chloride, was first used in fashion by none other than Mary Quant.



The year was 1963, and Quant was enthralled by a fabric that was not just shiny, and vaguely space age, but also waterproof and cheap.



Initially, it only came in black and white, and used to tear at the seams like the perforations on a postage stamp, but she persuaded a manufacturer to make it in ginger, terracotta and Colman’s mustard yellow, and to use special thread, and razor-sharp needles, so the seams stayed intact.



She proceeded to use it in her new collection, aptly titled the Wet Collection.

The clothes were photographed by Snowdon, won numerous awards, and were shown in Paris.



Sent down the runway on a 14-year-old model, the designs, and the new fabric, were a huge hit, and put London on the fashion map.



For a while, PVC never went away. It was a cheaper alternative to leather and I remember in the Seventies that my two most prized possessions were a pair of black patent, crinkly PVC lace-up boots and a brown PVC midi trench coat.



In that coat, I remember I always rustled and crackled when I walked. It had a sheen, and a glamour.

Left to right: Pencil skirt, £795, Burberry; cream skirt, £34.99, H&M



It smelled like a plastic doll. It started to melt if you left it in the sun, or sat too close to the fire. The boots didn’t breathe, or do too well in puddles, but I loved them.



But then PVC fell out of fashion. Leather, thanks to new factories in India and China, became much cheaper. Women wanted soft, supple and luxurious.

Anything made from PVC, particularly if it was black, suddenly smacked of fetish-wear. Of the cheap and the cheerful. No woman would ever be seen dead in plastic.

But, oh dear me, how times have changed. Tired of sequins, lace, sheer, leather and even fur, designers are turning to PVC to give clothes a sheen, and to give skirts and dresses a sticky-outy stiffness, and shoes and bags a real shot of vibrant colour.



Patent leather has shine, but is nothing compared with the Day-Glo effect of a petro-chemical by-product.

Christian Louboutin shoes, £575, net-a-porter.com

The best example of PVC for autumn was seen at Topshop Unique, where a bright orange PVC midi skirt and black flared mini worn for day gave the brand welcome, and recently much missed, edge and naughtiness.



Even Gucci showed PVC on the catwalk: a Seventies disco version that suddenly made all the silk, wool and tweed elsewhere seem a bit tame.



Of course, this is a fabric that is not for everyone. The cream midi lampshade skirt in PVC from H&M looks odd on anyone over the age of 25.



Better and safer is to stick to PVC on a shoe or a bag. A PVC boxy clutch, say, from Shourouk, in fluoro lime, £520, or a Marc Jacobs wallet, £130 (both from net-a-porter.com).



PVC is more ethical and hard-wearing than leather, too, which just might sway you.



My best PVC buys …



This cream PVC skirt from H&M is a very on trend, lampshade shape, and only £34.99. Style it as on the Topshop catwalk (Topshop has a great pale pink PVC pencil skirt, by the way, for £38), with shoe boots, and a big, faux fur slouchy tank: whatever you do, don’t tuck in your blouse, or belt the skirt tightly because, if you do, it all becomes a bit Natalie Wood in West Side Story, i.e. retro

Christian Louboutin has some very pretty slingbacks, made of embellished PVC, and — here is the surprise — they have a low heel, so you will be able even to skip in them (£575 from net-a-porter.com).



Not everyone can wear a big lampshade skirt so, happily, the pencil shape is still going strong for autumn. Burberry’s PVC version is £795. Team it with a print Celia Birtwell silk shirt (see below).