Crumpled clothes are in vogue. On the catwalk at Prada and Calvin Klein, the models wore outfits that were deliberately creased, while celebrities including Gwyneth Paltrow, Jessie Buckley and the Duchess of Sussex have tried the look too.
But would you step away from the ironing board? Our writers share their arguments for and against – tell us your thoughts in the comments below.
For
Meghan take note, ironing really pays off
Ironing is not my favourite activity. Nor is steaming. But if you want to look polished, it’s an essential step of the getting dressed process.
Even the most expensive, beautifully crafted clothes in the world look sloppy when crumpled – and nobody wants to look like they’ve just been pulled out of the tumble dryer.
I stand firm on this point, even though Prada just showed an entire collection of crumpled clothes on the catwalk during Milan Fashion Week. Far be it from me to criticise the genius that is Mrs Prada, but what works with her designs on a beautiful young model does not necessarily help when applied to you, or me, or the M&S shirt we might be throwing on for work.
Pressed clothes are a well-dressed woman’s secret weapon. You don’t need to buy anything new, or agonise about how you put clothes together. Just ironing or steaming can elevate the scrappiest garment into something with elegance.
I’m always baffled by celebrities who make a public appearance in creased clothes. Yes, I’m looking at you, Meghan, but also Gwyneth Paltrow’s recent red carpet appearances.
Fair enough if they’re papped on the street, but when a photo op is planned, hair and make-up professionally done, outfit chosen or even made especially for the occasion, failing to steam is an own goal.
The Duchess of Sussex, it’s clear, styles herself, and I think she has great taste in clothes. But there are finishing touches that betray her DIY approach. One is her often too-long trouser hems, and the other is creases, most recently witnessed on her not-a-royal visit to Jordan. Whatever you think of her, she’s not, on this occasion, trying to engineer a fashion moment, but her creased trousers just make you think, ‘Get the girl a steamer!’
If sitting all day is the plan, then think about the fabrics you’re wearing. There are so many crease-free textiles out there – the designer Edeline Lee’s bubble jacquard, for instance, or The Fold’s clever crepe, or M&S’s crease-resist trousers, or Lululemon’s Luxtreme tailored trousers. I could go on.
I have my own de-creasing short cuts – Tencel shirts by With Nothing Underneath and Paloma take seconds to steam. Ditto my boxy white tees. Add jeans and a blazer or knit, and you have my day-to-day uniform. The requirement to iron is minimal, and even then, my husband never minds my slipping an extra shirt on the pile when he’s ironing his for the week ahead.
The best thing about ironing is that the only cost is your time. Yes, it’s a faff, but until Mrs Prada makes creased clothes go mainstream, it remains an effort that really pays off. Meghan, take note.
Against
If God had meant women to iron, He wouldn’t have invented polyester
Ironing: how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. I hate the faff of dragging out the ironing board, yet can confirm that the alternative – the kitchen worktop – brands clothes with greasy stains. I hate the specific boredom of ironing shirts, the repetition of pressing their collars, the fiddliness of positioning their shoulders on the narrow end of a board that bears scant relation to their shape. I hate the boiled-cloth smell of ironing, and my own cack-handed inability to smooth out the creases.
But most of all, I hate the time drain. If God had meant women to iron, He wouldn’t have invented polyester, the eighth wonder of the domestic world and the reason I haven’t ironed since 2005. Newly installed in our first home, I was pregnant before we’d even planned the housewarming party. My second home, the pub, now less appealing, I cast around for other activities to fill my time. The Rowenta Steam Force winked at me from the cupboard under the sink. Maybe I’d iron a few of his shirts. Some bedding, even.
It didn’t last. By 2014, my husband and I were both WFH, our shirts replaced by hoodies and our entire wardrobes rendered in French terry and polycotton fleece. Since then, on those rare occasions when smartness is required, I always find a workaround containing rayon, acrylic, elastane or Lyocell. When my daughters started school, M&S’s easy-iron shirts saved the day. Or rather, the 16 years and counting.
Today, I’d estimate that 95 per cent of my wardrobe can be worn without ironing, while the remaining 5 per cent is worn crumpled. If a jacket lapel becomes kinked, I whip out the GHD straighteners. If a dress emerges from its winter hiatus looking crumpled, I hang it in the bathroom while I shower. In cases of emergency – say, if the King suddenly decided to give me an OBE for laziness – I’d get busy with the Steamery steamer. Steaming is quite fun, with the added bonus that it’s good for your pores.
No matter that Chanel has ushered in a trend for crisp white shirts this spring: I’d rather sit it out than go through the torture of ironing one. Besides, Prada is backing crumpled clothing for autumn. Who knew I’d end up on Miuccia’s moodboard? Truly, life always has a way of surprising us. Though not to the extent that I’d ever pick up an iron.