Gold

In fashion at least, all that glitters is not necessarily gold. With last season’s bedazzling catwalks strewn with vivid neon and pantone brights, Seventies disco stylings, pink in every shade from bubblegum to fuschia and tactile tasselling, glittery razzmatazz came in all forms. Autumn/winter 2011 however saw gold’s shares rise again – on the sartorial stock market, that is – as designers realised, just like Gordon Brown after he sold off the UK ingot reserves, that they’d overlooked one of fashion’s brightest commodities. Nothing says bling like gold does – it’s at once brash and bold, but stately and poised; it’s nouveau but with a certain noblesse oblige and, as with most indicators of social status, it’s what you do with it that counts.

Nowhere did gold more clearly delineate a difference in vision than at Dolce & Gabbana and at Gareth Pugh – the same shade and same connotations, rendered in almost antithetical ways. At Dolce, a sequinned midi-length shift, its plain silhouette emphasised by giant paste gold stars dotted at random across its surface, and accessroised with a leopard print purse-belt. It was the ultimate statement of everyday glamour – a clean and unrestrictive garment, complete with hands-free extras, decadently decked out in the most opulent of colours. At Gareth Pugh meanwhile, utilitarian glitz was given a rigid spin, with surfaces covered not in sequins but with small rectangular gold tiles, to complement the angularity of the overall garments, which derived their outlines once more from Pugh’s signature samurai shapes and space-age structuralism. This was solid gold, where Dolce’s was gilt, an absolute and a remorseless take on this most extreme of materials.

At Comme de Garçons care was taken to create a new version of gold – such innovation is of course Rei Kawakubo’s raison d’etre. And so her gold was paler and more white in tone than the brassier shades elsewhere. And it was laid over the toile of a deconstructed blazer and tailored shorts, a comment perhaps on the working uniform of some of the world’s most well-paid professions.

What these new season designs have in common though is that they have redirected gold and instigated it as a new sort of social commentary. We’re more used to Kylie’s golden pants than Pugh’s metallic cocoon coat; gold must be creative rather than clichéd, unexpected not predictable. That’s the thinking behind the first century Afghan golden shoe soles on display at The British Museum at the moment, the value of which is only revealed when the wearer lifts their feet. Rethink gold for everyday, designers ask of us for autumn, only the clueless save it for the dancefloor or the red carpet.

Harriet Walker is a fashion writer at The Independent. Her book Less is More: Minimalism in Fashion is out now, published by Merrell.

Zoë Taylor has appeared in Le Gun, Bare Bones, Ambit and Dazed & Confused. She is currently working on her third graphic novella and an exhibition.