Sumptuous clothing has long been used as a means of conveying status and power – Queen Elizabeth I even reserved the colour purple for royalty onlyWikimedia

Today, a hefty price tag is likely to be the only barrier standing between us and our sartorial dreams, but for most of history, sumptuary laws prevented all but an elite handful from having the ability to even consider buying exclusive garments. Purple was preserved for the upper strata of society, whether this was the nobility and above (as in Ancient Rome), or royalty alone (as in Elizabethan England). Early modern England saw a detailed stipulation matching certain colours, materials and places of manufacture to their ‘appropriate’ social standing: even exemption from an Elizabethan Act of Parliament requiring all men over the age of six to wear a woollen cap on Sundays and holidays was dependent on being a member of the clergy or holding a university degree.

A princess of the people – Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge, demonstrates that royalty is not always about pomp and circumstance when it comes to clothingReveal.co.uk

However, using clothing to negotiate status was certainly most prevalent in the wealthiest classes of society: peasants could not even consider protesting about what they were allowed to wear when they already struggled to put food on the table. At Mary I’s coronation, her half-sister Elizabeth was dressed deliberately to emphasise her inferior position, and Charles II’s restoration, after the puritanical republic under Oliver Cromwell, saw a plethora of sumptuous garments, lest anyone needed reminding that he was the rightful monarch. The monarchy would include clothing in the salaries of their servants, and give away pieces from their own personal collection as favours; the aristocracy would also dictate in their wills where their most valuable garments should go. The polarisation of the nation’s wardrobes was absolute: the average early modern labourer would have had one outfit made of sheepskin or wool, yet James I frequently spent the equivalent of at least £4 million a year, in today’s money, on his wardrobe to maintain his stately image.

Fast forward to today, and the association of class and clothing has been diluted considerably: it would have been unthinkable for royalty to wear skinny jeans even 20 years ago, yet the Duchess of Cambridge is often spotted wearing a pair (and even once paired them with Superga trainers!). A-listers and the high street have also formed an unlikely coalition: Gigi Hadid has sported H&M; Hailey Baldwin and Kendall Jenner are happy to switch Louboutins for Kurt Geiger, and Olivia Palermo even wore Topshop to London Fashion Week in February 2016. By proving style is far more about how you wear an outfit than how much it cost, they earn extra fashion kudos from fans, too.

“It would have been unthinkable for royalty to wear skinny jeans even 20 years ago, yet the Duchess of Cambridge is often spotted wearing a pair”

Switching luxury labels for affordable attire can be done far more discretely today than in the nineteenth century. Since the invention of the sewing machine and synthetic dyes in the 1860s, it’s a lot harder to tell who can afford to spend thousands on one coat, and who has just bought a whole new wardrobe from the sales: a good cut and quality fabric can be found on the high street, making it a lot easier to dress well and impress others on a budget.

The only unbreakable bond between status and class is the power of the designer logo: a recent study has shown that wearing a visibly branded item of clothing can make you appear wealthier, more trustworthy, and more professional than others. A tiny embroidered logo adds nothing to the durability or wearability of a garment, yet immense amounts of status to wearer, which perhaps explains why Polo Ralph Lauren can charge up to £145 for just one men’s shirt. Class perception through clothing has, of course, come a long way since the reign of Elizabeth I, yet our  perceptions of class, power and status remain, if a little more subtly, firmly attached to superficial sartorial cues.