KEY POINTS:
Am I the only female not prepared to queue in my "fashion-forward" cork wedges for the honour of buying "exclusive" togs from the forthcoming celebrity ranges?
If you like that kind of thing, there are a few coming up in Britain: Kate Moss for Topshop, Madonna for H&M and Lily Allen for New Look.
All female, all style icons, and all apparently desperate to remake women in their own image. Never mind the spoilsports who say this branding is on a crass par with lending your name to spaghetti hoops or loo roll, this is big fashion news.
Young women have already stated their intention to sleep on the pavement outside the shops if that's what it takes. And if you think that's a bit much, you should know that they're a new breed of psycho fashion teenyboppers.
Instead of lusting after Take That, they go all Play Misty For Me over celebrity-endorsed smock tops. And then go home and put everything they've bought on eBay.
There's nothing new about celebrity fashion, but celebrities used to know their place, which was not at the "cutting edge".
So while you'd get the odd swimwear line (post-divorce Jerry Hall showing off her figure-flattering beach saris), nobody was pretending they were big-time designers.
Moreover, it was a Good Thing when real designers started diffusion lines (the practice of posh designers doing cheaper stuff in mainly synthetic fabrics, in a creative quest not to go bankrupt).
It also meant that cheapskates like me got to wear labels, even if we did have to be careful not to stand too close to a naked flame.
However, the dark art of celebrity fashion cloning involving millions of little fashion sheep running around "being" Kate, or Madge or Lily seems to be a new and sinister thing.
Looking more closely at the celebrity ranges, Lily Allen one can nearly understand. At least she is young and has that "street Audrey Hepburn" thing going on (full English Breakfast at Tiffany's, anyone?).
But hasn't Madonna already blown it once? All that vogue-ing, all those stylised videos and yoga-tastic leotards, and what did she come up with for H&M last time? A white tracksuit with pockets big enough to hold a kebab. One can imagine the blood, sweat, and tears put into that. "I see a tracksuit. White. With pockets."
Brilliant.
Then there is La Moss. Granted, she is our foremost style icon, but what is this one hears about her turning up at Topshop with a bunch of her own clothes for them to copy, sorry, "draw inspiration from".
Much as I applaud Moss' championship-level idleness, this does not bode well for her collection. All she seems to have worn recently are a pair of skanky denim shorts and Pete Doherty.
But then maybe the bottom line is that, apart from the bottom line, Celebrity Cloning lines are a bad idea altogether.
What is most annoying is that this is such a wasted opportunity. The fat cats at the fashion emporiums could be striking a blow for the ordinary woman. Instead of using beautiful, thin people, they could get in more "attainable" fashion gals.
Alternatively, someone could do a range that is actually useful.
Celebrities know a thing or two about lounging around doing nothing much - why doesn't someone do a range for home-workers like me (I'm seeing pyjamas with proper clothes stapled on top to fool people into thinking you've managed to get dressed). And where is the Amy Winehouse Clothes That Don't Show Booze Stains range? Now that would be a fashion statement I could relate to.
More seriously, isn't there something, not so much morally wrong, just generally dull, about this Celebrity Cloning? Not to mention incongruous.
Look at Britain's global sartorial fingerprint and what sets us apart is our love of originality and individuality. Ironically enough, it is a large part of the reason the likes of Moss and Allen are so adored.
Bearing this in mind, isn't it sad that there are so many women swooning at the thought of getting the chance to look exactly like someone else.
Perhaps better all round to dress like someone with a mind and wardrobe of their own.
- OBSERVER
