Put your coffee down (yes, you there). Because you might not like what we’re about to tell you.
The scrunchie, that ultimate symbol of Eighties hair, is back. Geek chic took on a new dimension this season at Ashish with a roughly arranged, off-centre, sort of bun secured with a scrunchie, and not a hint of embarrassment. Remember the bit in Sex And The City where Carrie says that a chic New York woman wouldn’t be seen dead in a scrunchie? In fact, she squeals it. Rather annoyingly. Because scrunchies have been the anti-chic up until now. Model of the moment Cara Delevingne is also joining the fray by modelling for east London designers My Crazy Scrunchie. But is this revival one step forward for womankind, two steps back in the style stakes?
Samantha Flowers Deputy Beauty Editor
You can always rely on Ashish to put the fun into Fashion Week. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when I saw the scrunchies. Would I really be resurrecting my old playground style? Erm, actually yes. I surprised myself with how much I loved this look. It’s incredibly easy (although I’d prepped my hair that morning, blow-drying Bb Texture Creme, £21.50, Bumble and bumble for added hold). I whipped my hair into a messy top-knot, tied it with a scrunchie and massaged the temples to release some flyaways. It’s playtime.
Joanna McGarry Beauty Director
Ah, the scrunchie. How we laughed at the thought of wrapping its stretchy form around our hair to be photographed. The scrunchie is ridiculous. It laughs in the face of professionalism, adulthood and staying in to file bank statements. It’s painfully Eighties, yes; but in its modern guise, it has become a totem of insouciant art-school cool. It’s louche and a bit ironic. And though it pains me to admit it, god it feels good. Try it, I dare you.
Anita Bhagwandas Beauty Assistant
When I was eight, my mum hand-made me a peach corduroy outfit with matching scrunchie. “You look weird,” noted one boy, pointing directly at my hair. Children can be so cruel. But this look is crueller still – I needed nearly a can of Moroccanoil’s Luminous Hairspray, £16.65, to get the darn thing to even stay in. Ban it for all eternity, I say.