I was a tartan teen tearaway
Cheddar Gorgeous in a suit designed by Liquorice Black, courtesy of Tartan at V&A Dundee
As a ‘scrawny little dag’ from a Sydney suburb, she fell hard for Spandau Ballet and their pop-wears-plaid look. Her wardrobe hasn’t been the same since. Tartan can’t make a comeback, says Jo Elvin, because for me it never went away.
Who to blame for your tartan obsession, is really a question of your age. Perhaps, like my older cousins, you were mimicking your heroes, the Bay City Rollers, in flared tartan trousers and matching pavement-scraping scarves. I was only about seven or eight when the Sex Pistols were scaring the bejesus out of me by pairing theirs with spikes, piercings and anarchic screaming.
But such is the power of tartan that it finds us all in the end. For me, an 80s teen, my first tartan crush was courtesy of those new romantic boys Spandau Ballet. Rising from the ashes of punk, they dandified it right up in a glorious blancmange of billowing shawls, cheekbones and lip gloss. Which of those was the first to pierce my heart, I’m not entirely sure. But while I got over Martin Kemp when I discovered David Bowie, my love for tartan has stood the test of time.
In fact, I was first in the queue for tickets when my Spandau idols toured Australia in 1985 and I knew immediately what I’d wear. And let’s just say it’s fortunate for me that Cancel culture had not yet been invented. As a scrawny little dag growing up in the least fashionable suburbs of Sydney I had no business at all in culturally-appropriating the ancient pattern steeped in so much Scottish history and fierce pride. In fact, it would be another more before the designer Alexander McQueen made his breakthrough with a tartan collection that was a savage commentary on that very sin, aggressively but appropriately titled ‘Highland Rape’.
Listen, all I knew back then was that if Spandau was into it, I was too. And so it came to pass that I wore wide-legged tartan trousers of a blue/black/yellow/green mash-up, and topped with an oversized black cardigan (don’t). As I left the house, my neighbour looked me up and down, took a long drag on her cigarette and said, ‘You know… you’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep dressing like that.’
Charles Jeffrey LOVERBOY SS2022. Photograph by Louie Banks
That turned out to be pretty bang on. To this day, my husband rolls his eyes and looks pained as I pull out yet another pair of wide-legged tartan trousers (old habits etc.) - usually from every working woman’s favourite brand, ME+EM. He calls them ‘big ol’ bellbottoms’ and they get a lot of airplay on the Instagram hashtag I started a few years ago #clothesmyhusbandhates. My fashion heaven is his hell but I just can’t help it. I love colour and tartan always serves a buffet of gorgeous blends, so it coordinates well with so many other pieces in your wardrobe.
‘Growing up in the least fashionable suburbs of Sydney I had no business at all in culturally-appropriating the ancient pattern steeped in so much Scottish history and fierce pride’
That said, I recently found a tartan pencil skirt - from the Scottish label Celtic & Co. - and not only did he not make even one single retching sound, he actually asked me why I don’t wear stuff like that more often. Perhaps the magazine boss who once ranted that ‘No man likes a woman in tartan’ (when I’d made the mistake of presenting a whole fashion shoot of it) was slightly wide of the mark after all.
The secret of tartan’s perennialism lies in its chameleonic allure: It’s cosy tins of shortbread and the Miu Miu-inspired plaid micro-mini my teenage daughter’s wearing right now. You can serve it traditionally in an A-line skirt and a cardi and toddle off to Sunday prayers, or with the bloody rebellion of a ripped flannel shirt and chunky boots. For that we owe a large debt to the late, great Vivienne Westwood whose subversive use of tartan single-handedly birthed a British epoch.
‘Trousers cropped to knickerbocker length and paired with fishnets? Korean pop star Taemin’s look was a thrilling, campy, punky take on the trad plaid’
To really immerse yourself in its cultural might, head to the new exhibition at the V&A Dundee. Called simply Tartan - for what other words would you need? - it’s a sweeping homage to the fabric that’s a relic and a maverick all rolled into one. History, politics, controversy, bobble hats - however you like to get your tartan on, it’s here.
The most striking thing about the exhibition is just how powerfully evergreen it is.
I never understand the ‘tartan is back’ headlines that surface after almost every new round of international fashion shows. As a magazine editor of many years, I can’t recall it ever going away and this year’s no exception; from Thom Browne in New York, to Dior in Paris and naturally, Andreas Kronthaler at Westwood, who used lashings of it in an affectionate tribute to his late predecessor.
Eunice Olumide in Tartan. Courtesy of V&A Dundee
And tartan will keep reinventing, modernising and reflecting our age. Case in point: I’ve recently become fascinated with Korean Pop (and that’s a whole other mid-life crisis related discussion for another day.) But the point is, when I saw the pop star, Taemin, rocking his tartan look by Charles Jeffrey Loverboy in the video for his 2021 song Advice, I was electrified anew; trousers cropped to knickerbocker length and paired with fishnets? It was a thrilling, campy, punky take on the trad plaid and all the proof you need that there is no mould that tartan cannot break.
Jo Elvin is a fashion journalist and former editor of Glamour. She presents the podcast FAME.
