It’s official: it was the dress of the season. Turning up at the Hollywood Foreign Press Association luncheon last week, Nicole Kidman seems to have snapped up the last of the Prada sundresses. What appears to have started as an innocent scrabble around in the Prada scrap bag gathered a head of steam over the summer until every self-respecting celebrity - or Grazia girl, for that matter - had snapped up at least one.
Miuccia was tapping into summer fetish for retro-femininity by giving old Prada prints a new life in the simplest of sundress shapes. So far, so eco-friendly and perfectly-pitched for steamy summers everywhere form Paris to Palm Beach. But I have seen otherwise cool ladies in a complete lather in the Bond Street store on the heels of a new (usually unannounced) delivery. Fresh batches barely made it onto the shop floor before they were whisked away by eagle-eyed sundress spotters. I am convinced that people with mates in Bond Street offices had paid them to give the heads up every time a delivery van rolled up outside number 17.
I was innocently doing my expenses in W11 one day in early July when my neighbour called to say she’d spotted Carey Mulligan’s Piazza San Marco print dress and was prepared to literally walk around the store holding it until I got there. I thought that was beyond the call of friendship and released her, having settled for my own pink and purple rose print and fallen completely and totally in love with it. It’s seen me through every summer event: my preferred look being complete with a snakeskin belt, nude heels and a panama hat. It packs into pocket size space and never seems to need to be ironed. I warn you now, if they re-issue next summer, get down there quick and buy two!