When Nicolas Ghesquiere revealed his first collection for Louis Vuitton, there was plenty to go nuts for. The textiles, the roll necks, the little quilted purses. Above all, the mini-skirts. Beautifully cut and wittily trimmed with oversized pockets, they represented just how well Ghesquiere understood the brand he was inheriting when he took over the LV mantle from Marc Jacobs.
Like everything else in this collection, his high-waisted A-line minis were intelligent and edgy, but also eminently wearable. Yes, they're short, but this is a shape that suits a surprising number of women. Team them with black tights and boots and the resulting silhouette is sleek and balanced, especially if you go for a high neckline, as Ghesquiere did with his models. It was a timely reminder not to dismiss the mini; it's a good 15 years since I've taken them seriously.
This is misguided, and not just sartorially. Certain garments have transcended fashion and moved into history. The LBD is one of these, the mini skirt is another. Whereas the LBD is timeless, the mini belongs to the era that spawned it. Mary Quant's claim to have made the first one, in 1964, and naming it after her favourite car, has since been challenged.
There was talk of minis two years earlier, it is said, in Mexico City. They were called ya-yas then, apparently, a name we need to bring back as soon as possible ("What are you wearing tonight? My black leather ya-ya." Excellent.)
Quant says it was girls running for buses on Kings Rd who inspired her, which suggests that the skirts were merely reflecting a change in pace that was under way already in many different senses.