I really, really love sleeves. With the caveat that this is fashion, so don’t hold me to it next year. Right now, they are a newfound passion. Some weeks I wear the things that demand our attention because they are on trend, and I smile in the photos but then I write rude things about why you shouldn’t wear them. But today I feel unadulterated love for the interesting sleeve.
There is an uncomplicated joy in a trend that pulls focus away from the body on to the actual clothes. My least favourite type of fashion is the kind that is talking in code about being thin. A crop top is technically a fashion statement, but really you’re talking about your abs. This is as treacherous and tedious as clean eating posing as something to do with vitamin intake. The statement sleeve is free of sneaky body-related agenda.
We had puff sleeves a few seasons ago, but that was essentially a cutesy take on the power shoulder pad. The shape in the new look comes from the sleeve, not the shoulder. So the upper arm is nothing to write home about, but the sleeve gathers volume lower down, fluting out like a calla lily, or exploding into a bell shape or ruffles.
Body politics aside, statement sleeves are marvellous for their ability to fashion content into sensible clothes. A lot of the fun in fashion (the boot heels made out of Perspex unicorns, the cold-shoulder dresses) is concentrated around the NSFW stuff. Actual fashion that you can put on in the morning, to go to work or the supermarket or whatever, is like gold dust. A shirt or sweater with a statement sleeve turns your work trousers or favourite jeans into a look.
The new sleeve cuts through the white noise of endless versions of clothes we already have. It has what retailers speak of in italics as the reason-to-buy factor, and as such is catnip to the casual lunchtime shopper. In the spirit of shameless enabling, I would point out that catwalk analysis suggests the trend is here to stay. The sleeve is a trend with legs.
• Jess wears top, £29, topshop.com. Trousers, £42, warehouse.co.uk. Suede heels, £150, kurtgeiger.com. Styling: Melanie Wilkinson. Hair and makeup: Laurence Close at Carol Hayes Management
