ALEXANDRA SHULMAN'S NOTEBOOK: It's a stitch up that men still decide what women wear

Daily Mail​

2 days ago

The fashion crew descended on Rome last week for Dior's annual cruise show, for a display of exceptional evening gowns. It was the final collection by creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri – the next day the fashion house announced she was leaving.
She's done a fabulous job for the past nine years. Remarkably, one of her strengths has been creating clothes that women actually want to wear. You might think that's a given, but it's not. So much of fashion designs are about attracting noise and heat around the brand – which then makes its real money from perfume and handbag sales.
Word has it that the Irishman Jonathan Anderson, who has joined Dior as head of menswear, will take Chiuri's place. If that is indeed the case it will mean the only couture house in the world with a female designer is Givenchy, where Sarah Burton is creative director.
It's extraordinary that the luxury fashion industry – which in huge part is driven by female customers – is still largely run by men.
Clothes are the most intimate of possessions, covering our body and affecting the way we move and feel. It should follow that women might understand better than a man what women want to wear. And yet, time after time, men are given the big-money jobs.
The whole creative director pool becomes a closed circle of musical chairs, as the majority of designers with experience in top roles are men. Even Chanel, where founder Coco remains one of the most famous names in fashion, has hired Matthieu Blazy from Bottega Veneta to take the helm.
Fortunately, the Italian leather house that Blazy left behind is one the few places with the guts to hire a woman. His replacement is the British designer Louise Trotter.
Mozzie bites again – now it's personal
We put men on the moon and cracked the secrets of DNA, but why has nobody found a way to end the misery of mosquito bites?
I write from a beautiful house in Majorca, gazing over a majestic valley scented by terraces of jasmine and orange groves and serenaded by the early morning sound of tinkling goat bells.
It should be paradise – and it is, apart from the fact that every day I am covered in new red welts that appear almost as soon as I arrive in any hot climate.
Despite cramming an arsenal of mozzie-busters into my suitcase – including a chargeable hot pen I have bought that's meant to instantly combat the itching, but is actually just painful – nothing works. I remain lethally attractive to these demons.
Other guests are totally bite-free, and a discussion of my woes threw up the suggestion that certain blood types may be irresistible to mosquitoes.
If that's the case, mine must be like Chateau Petrus to the blighters. Sadly, a complete blood transfusion isn't a practical option. Any solutions greatly welcomed, as it's only May and I'm already a patchwork of bumps. But please don't bother suggesting citronella, Vitamin B, or deet. Been there, done that, and they don't make any difference.
Ball games allowed, but all the time…
What is it with boys and balls? Watching two men compete at ping pong the other day before they headed off to do combat on the local tennis court, I wondered why the male of the species is so attracted to ball games.
It doesn't matter their age. If they can move, they will be up for football, cricket, tennis, padel – anything that involves a sphere they can bash around.
Some might say it's the British public school system that ingrains a culture of ball games into our men. A good chap is good at sports. But the reality is that almost all small boys head for the nearest ball as soon as they can walk, and remain inseparable from them for the rest of their lives.
It's one thing we can't blame on the British class system.
Show it off – that's why you bought it!
We went shopping to buy more holiday clothes that we will be able to wear only a few weeks a year.
Back at the house, I immediately put on my new shirt. But my host was having none of that – he was saving his for some occasion that merited breaking it out.
And so I discovered a great hidden divide among shoppers.
One group of people promptly wear new clothes. The other squirrels theirs away, waiting for heaven knows what. Baffling.
Trump has brought Canada into the light
Canada owes a debt of thanks to President Trump for his mission to turn the nation into the 51st American state. His ludicrous scheme has thrust into the limelight a country that's often regarded as a rather dull place that interesting people leave as soon as they can. As the daughter of a Canadian father, I feel entitled to make such an insulting observation of a place that I have never visited – because I was brainwashed from childhood into that opinion.
My dad was proud of the fact that he left Toronto with the Canadian Military during the war, fell in love with London and never returned. But now it's all change.
Canada is in the news along with a bevy of Canadians such as Ryan Reynolds, Pamela Anderson, Graydon Carter and Neil Young.
Even King Charles and Queen Camilla dashed over there last week for a state visit to show their support for this huge – and under-rated – country with Trump's crazy ambitions looming over it.
And just like that, another book's done
Pity the poor Booker Prize entrants. This year's celebrity judge Sarah Jessica Parker announced recently that to get through the workload she's reading two books a day.
If you've sweated over your oeuvre, polishing every adjective and stressing over a semicolon, the idea of a judge racing through your precious sentences at breakneck speed will come as a blow. Perhaps SJP thinks you can binge-read Booker novels the same way you binge-watch her Sex And The City follow-up series And Just Like That in one night on Netflix.