As I write this, Cambridge students have unpacked their gowns and reading glasses and are starting to arrive for another Michaelmas term in the eternally uniformed city. ‘Uniformed?’ I hear your cries of disbelief at the application of such an adjective to what should be the home of original thought. But indeed, it is mostly Oxford lace-ups, chinos and Thomas Pink shirts for the boys, and ballet pumps, pashminas, opaque tights and denim minis for the girls. Sombre-coloured tracky-B’s, of course, will do for chillaxing in the library or the JCR. The exceptions? The indie Kambar crew, who, although cliquey, at least try something different – usually successfully, too. And people so horrifically dull that we mentally block them out (although they will constitute 90% of the people you meet during Fresher’s week). But when it’s come to the point where, starved of individual vision, people come to Cambridge to live out Evelyn Waugh novels, how does one form a signature style both academically and stylistically?

In cities that are not Cambridge (lest you forget about them for the next eight weeks - after all, so many do), the models from New York and London Spring/Summer 2008 Fashion Weeks have now strutted off to Milan. For a lot of these Eastern European beauties this simply means smiling and nodding to a different language they do not yet understand, but this is in fact the  real eye in the chiffon-ruffling storm. At the moment, one has only the predominantly commercially-led New York newly-old masters and London’s more experimental up-and-comers to sketch an idea of what’s to come. Similarly, we have only the Oxbridge stereotype and our past experience to define what this upcoming year will look like for us. Below I outline three Spring 2008 shows, three fabric essays on how to develop a new signature style, which can apply to both coursework and wardrobe matters.

Marc Jacobs The most sought after ticket in New York guaranteed you two hours of sitting around doing nothing. Due for a 9pm start, the show that divided critics started at ten past eleven. After a slick ladylike offering last season that was the height of uptown New York chic, Jacobs tried something new. The collection served as a lesson that if one ventures into novel territory, neat presentation and punctuality are crucial. A ‘new version’ of someone else’s idea will just not cut it. It is, in a way, understandable for Jacobs to have taken surrealist ideas from the likes of Schiaparelli and Dior and have made them his own. But when he borrows from contemporaries like John Galliano (the bird’s nest hairstyles and Havisham-esque evening dresses), Comme des Garcons (the incongruous layering of unfinished garments) and Miuccia Prada (underwear as outerwear), his authenticity becomes questionable.

If, perhaps, Jacobs had taken a New York approach, giving a wearable New York polish to difficult trends, it might have made for a break-through collection. But the critical furore stemmed from the fact that the execution of the ‘upside down’ show (which began, a trick recently employed by both Moschino and Viktor and Rolf, with the designer taking his bow, and worked its way backwards), as well as the clothes themselves, were substandard and insufficiently finished by Jacobs’ usual standards. The partially dressed look (think half a ball-gown revealing slips and bras galore) was an interesting riff on sexuality from a designer whose clothes are often anti-sexy, but, as Suzy Menkes, the International Herald Tribune Fashion Editor (and one-time Varsity editor-in-chief) pointed out, the show looked pallid when compared to its European inspirations, whose ideas were maybe still too fresh to recycle. The Cambridge link? If one tries to do something out-of-character and in any way derivative, make sure it is presented perfectly, humbly and has the utmost personal panache.
Giles Deacon With Luella and Matthew Williamson moving back to the capital, it looks like the rhinestone-studded-heart-shaped fashion-pendulum has swung back in London’s direction. This in no small way can be attributed to Giles Deacon and his revival of what it means to be English and ladylike in the 21st century. The Central St Martins alumnus does not really adhere to a ‘theme,’ although he did cite the album covers of 80s band The Cocteau Twins as inspiration. Bleeding Bambi prints and naïf appliquéed autumnal leaves garnished candy-coloured debutante-style evening dresses with an haute couture quality. Inky patterns swayed on loose chiffon confections, a recipe for a deliciously varied collection. Even a dark denim dress, decorated only with a cross-stitch design, abstractly shorthanding the contours of the female form beneath, seemed modern and timeless. Candyfloss rolls of tulle under full skirts in heavy satin seemed like an organic extension to the proposed wardrobe rather than a non sequitur. Everything-but-the-kitchen-sink collections are hard to pull off without seeming long winded, but the masterful execution of Giles’ clothes proves that, if you can hack it, a bevy of well-thought out arguments (or looks) makes for a strong working method.

Marios Schwab 24-year-old Christopher Kane is the name on everybody’s lips, but the strongest collection from a young designer this season was that of Schwab. Bringing body-con dressing below the skin, Schwab presented his audience with a lesson in anatomy as black dresses pealed away in sculptural curls to reveal abstract biology-class-inspired prints. It was a succinct collection and precisely explained. Thoroughly dissected, one statement, whether visual or cerebral, is as powerful as one million.

London has outshined New York in terms of execution and ideas, and, once again, it’s that classic British eccentricity that separates us from the Abercrombie clad Ivy-leaguers when it comes to both style and supervision essays.

Benj Ohad Seidler