Wait! Come back! I saw that. I saw you almost skip on to read something else, because you’ve spotted that today I’m talking about tutu skirts and you are thinking to yourself, who in their right mind is going to wear a tutu skirt?
Look, I get it. In fact, until recently I was in lockstep with you on this one. When I first saw the tutu skirt trend coming, I was absolutely sure it was one I would sit out. I would have bet you good money that I would not be caught dead walking into the office wearing tulle.
And yet that is exactly what I did at least one day this week, and the week before, and also at Paris fashion week. We are where we are, as they say, and I am now officially in my tutu skirt era.
How on earth did this happen? The tutu skirt season as such began in January. First, the iconic ruffled white tutu miniskirt worn by Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie Bradshaw in the original opening credits of Sex and the City went under the hammer at Julien’s auction house in California, and turned out to be one of the night’s star lots, going for $52,000 (£40,800). Later that month, the Chanel haute couture show went big on tutu skirts, with catwalk versions in black and ivory as well as ballet-slipper pink.
Paired with a tweed jacket, a tutu skirt suddenly looked elegant. Hmm, I found myself thinking, I reckon tulle might be quite comfy, actually.
As it happens, my tutu skirt has been in my wardrobe for three years, ever since I bought it from the diffusion collection designer Simone Rocha did for H&M in 2021. It is blush pink, calf length, with asymmetric ruffles sweeping from one hip to the opposite hem. It is beautifully made, and I loved it from the start, but it mostly hung unworn in my wardrobe – until this year.
Am I doing the “coquette” look? No. Have I signed up to the “balletcore” aesthetic? Again, no. Those are both real trends, by the way. Coquette is lots of bows and ribbons; balletcore is more ribbons plus pale pink. Ballet flats feature in both. I have nothing against either coquette or balletcore, although they both feel a bit fancy dress to me.
But as a solo guest star in an otherwise low-key outfit, a tutu skirt is surprisingly wearable. Honestly. I would recommend knee-length or longer. The fabric has a pleasingly graceful swing to it that requires a bit of length to fully appreciate; a short one is a little bit Swan Lake cosplay.
The way to think about it is as a statement skirt, in a dressy fabric that just happens to be what tutus are made out of. Don’t let the tulle put you off, in other words. We’ve done statement skirts before, after all – I distinctly remember a season when everyone had either the Rixo leopard print one or a version of it, and another when there were dark florals everywhere, and those of us with long memories can recall a Prada-inspired pleated-skirt era.
A skirt in this slightly grand shape – a bit like the bottom half of a ball gown – is useful for when you want to look like you’ve made an effort but avoid looking like everyone else in the room.
Most importantly, what the tutu skirt has in spades is charm. It is polished but also off-kilter – a very Carrie Bradshaw combination, come to think of it. You can dress it down with a casual knit, as we have done here. I find it works better on my non-model proportions with a longline, fairly narrow top: either a T-shirt tucked into the skirt with a hip-length blazer on top, or a snug jumper long enough to cover at least the first six inches of the skirt, so that the froth and ruffles start a little lower.
Are you convinced? No? Well, nor was I a few short weeks ago. So I wouldn’t bet against the tutu skirt, if I were you.
Styling assistant: Sam Deaman. Hair and makeup: Sophie Higginson using Ouai and Ilia beauty. Model: Cynthia at Milk. Jumper: BA&SH. Shirt: Toteme. Skirt: Next. Boots: Russell & Bromley
