The catwalks have witnessed a revolution – clothes to keep you cosy. But don't think you can surrender to practicality


I had spotted my first New York fashion week trend before I left Heathrow's terminal 5. There was a fellow show-goer – her tote bag was Céline and bulging with magazines; you can call me Sherlock – queueing to board my flight wearing a long, sleeveless fur over her regular coat. The fur was oversized and slouchy, but with the sleeves lopped off it was somehow rakish, cosy and elegant all at once. You could tell it was real fur, which isn't for me (it had been her grandmother's, it turned out, when I quizzed her in the customs hall at JFK, and she'd chopped off the sleeves herself) but I found myself wondering where I might find a long, sleeveless, faux-fur coat (not, repeat not, a yummy-mummy-school-run gilet, but knee-length or longer), an item I now knew I needed to make my life complete, but which I hadn't known existed until that moment and had never seen in real life.

Less than 24 hours later, at the DKNY show, what should the third model on to the runway be wearing? A black calf-length, faux-fur, sleeveless coat.

That's how fashion week works. It's not linear. It comes at you from all directions at once, like being caught in a blizzard. What you see on the catwalk, what you see on the front row, what the people you ask for directions are wearing, when you're lost and searching for some so-hip-it-hurts downtown venue in the latest undiscovered corner of a foreign city – they always turn out to be fragments of the same story. It's a bit like having a mind palace, only slightly less impressive, since instead of solving a murder or saving a nation from tyranny all you get to do is come up with a new look to try out on Saturday night.



So, the sleeveless fur coat was the first clue. Then there was the Alexander Wang show, for which everyone had to travel to Brooklyn, making the most almighty fuss about it on the way, as if Brooklyn was some unheard of backwater. Wang seemed to be making a point about even cossetted Manhattanites engaging with the elements. "Extreme conditions and survival," was his pre-show soundbite. One model wore a shiny anorak over a double-breasted jacket, over a collared leather shirt, with a bright silk scarf tucked in to cosy the neckline. At Thakoon, the inspiration was the harsh climate of Patagonia, and models wore calf-length skirts with two layers of knit: one snug and to the hip, with a "shoulder-topper" of a chunky high-necked knit cropped above the waist. At Tommy Hilfiger, the sparkly fake snow on the catwalk conjured up a feelgood winter wonderland, as if we were inside a snowglobe. The models wore beanie hats, flannel shirts, sleeveless padded jackets and hiking boots. At Coach, new designer Stuart Vevers made chunky coats and cosy boots the focus, instead of handbags. A calf-length skirt worn with a cosy, hiplength knit was a major trend, seen at Victoria Beckham, Thakoon, Phillip Lim 3.1, DVF and Donna Karan.


 

This is fashion to keep you warm. And at New York fashion week, that is a revolution. Clothes that keep you warm, like food that fills you up, are antithetical to a long-held Manhattan style ideal, which is best summed up as the "my driver's waiting outside" look: shoes that no one could walk more than a block in, a bag too small to accommodate an umbrella, let alone a change of shoes, pristine winter whites, bare legs and impractical, canape-light coats. For the first time in years, New York winter fashion is getting real, on and off the catwalk.

However, this is not about surrendering to mindnumbing practicality. Yes, there were far fewer women shivering in cocktail dresses outside shows this week, but there were still plenty of bare legs. Instead of going without a warm layer so as not to kill your look, the new approach is to make your warm layer a fashion statement. Leandra Medine, of the Man Repeller blog, was nailing it day after day. Once she was in jeans and an ivory turtle neck, worn under a floor-length orange coat; then in jeans again, but under two loose black layers, one sheer tunic almost to the knee, one chunky fur trimmed knit cropped at the waist. Coats, I can report, should be worn either belted super tight, or falling-off-the-shoulder loose. (Doing the buttons up the normal way is a no-no, I'm afraid.) Scarves are enormous, and used for dramatic effect – think of shoulder-robing a blanket, rather than tucking a neat length of cashmere into your collar. Oh – and by day two, I had counted eight sleeveless furs among showgoers.

Diane von Furstenberg at New York fashion week. Photograph: Seth Wenig/AP

As for me, I did all the shows in flat biker boots, a first in 15 years of travelling to fashion weeks. It was quite life-changingly brilliant. When I dropped in for a cup of tea with Victoria Beckham the day after her show – where else are you going to get a cup of PG Tips in New York? – she looked impeccable, as always, wearing a similar calf-length skirt to the one she wore on show day, but this time in ivory wool, with a deep crimson Celine sweater. She complimented me on my boots, saying they were like "cute riding boots". I had thought of them as being like chic wellies (useful when I get back to the UK, by the look of it), but "cute riding boots" is better. Now, here I should admit that when she asked me where they were from – or rather, in fashion week parlance – "who they are by" – I didn't tell her they were from Marks & Spencer, and cost £75. I bottled it. But I'm telling you. These boots are my top tip. And in return – anyone know where I can get a sleeveless fake-fur coat in London? Because then, we'd truly have cold weather dressing sorted.