Every year, without fail, one trend is guaranteed: the puffer jacket. Sported by celebrities from Drake to Princess Diana, this iconic coat has cemented itself as a staple of winter wardrobes, with flocks of freshers storming Ryder & Amies in pursuit of their first college puffer.

Most recently, Lily Allen has donned the puffer in the cover art of her new album West End Girl, a semi-autobiographical account of her divorce from David Harbour. Allen’s album blends confession with confrontation – themes which are immediately presented in the cover art itself. Painted by Nieves González, the sombre lighting, plain backdrop, and prominent pose all feel faintly familiar, like the dozens of portraits you’ve probably walked past in a gallery – faces that once held significance, but forgotten over time.

“The puffer’s dual promise of comfort and confidence is so appealing”

And perhaps this might be the painting’s fate, if it wasn’t for the Miu Miu polka dot puffer that plants it firmly in the present. This blend of classical and contemporary is typical of González, whose oil paintings reimagine the pomp of Baroque portraiture within the context of contemporary femininity, swapping the intricacies of lace ruffs for bulky, shapeless silhouettes. During the 16th and 17th century, ruffs were used as displays of power, with the volume of the lace reflecting the wealth of the wearer. However, they also had an impact on your behaviour, physically enforcing good posture and the air of confidence and pride that comes with it. Today, the puffer takes on a similar role, but this time much less exclusive. Whether it’s from Primark or The North Face, the puffer jacket is a universally accessible article of clothing.

“The puffer embodies the loud, kitschy sense of style with which Allen has always been associated”

My Grandad once told me how, when he first moved to a crime-ridden New York in the 80’s, he invested in a huge black puffer. This was primarily because of the cold, but it also helped to bolster himself up in an unfamiliar environment. And he was not alone; studies have shown that the qualities we associate with certain items of clothing (professionalism with suits, competition with sportswear) can influence not only how others perceive us, but how we perceive ourselves. With this in mind, we can understand why the puffer’s dual promise of comfort and confidence is so appealing.

This idea seems to permeate through González’ painting, with Allen forming one of many boldly dressed, straight-faced women in her oeuvre. One subject shrouds herself in a pink faux-fur coat, whilst another clutches a giant inflatable dolphin. It is this notion of inflation that interests me most about Allen’s portrait. Painted to almost comical proportions, her puffer dominates the composition, framing her face with a mass of blue quilted fabric. As if this wasn’t dramatic enough, every fold is exaggerated in the light, enhancing this sense of flashiness and grandeur. In typically Baroque chiaroscuro fashion, its folds are half illuminated in the light, enhancing this sense of flashiness and grandeur.

“Your new college puffer is not so different from those Baroque portraits after all”

The whole getup is entirely Lily Allen, the puffer embodying the loud, kitschy sense of style with which Allen has always been associated. However, seven years on from her last album, here, the puffer takes on new layers of meaning, with González describing how it represents “both armour and comfort, protection and vulnerability,” becoming a sort of shield between her and the outside world.

So, why are we so drawn to the puffer coat – is it pure practicality, or a deliberate fashion statement? Something to show off your swagger, or to hide yourself within? Regardless of intention, the garment represents a universal desire to ‘puff yourself up’ that makes any Instagram posts in your new college puffer not so different from those Baroque portraits after all.