Miss AP's Diary
A Slippery Slope
I went to the kind of jolly-hockey sticks all-girls boarding school where we were taught how to exit a car like a lady, to say ‘nice to meet you’ rather than ‘pleased to meet you’ (frightfully déclassé), and how to immediately, upon entering a room, tell a good Eton boy from someone who was, well, NQOCD. (If you have to look it up then I’m afraid it’s a case in point).
It was a very strict school: no smoking, no make-up, no boys. One night I was caught in an entanglement of all three. I was sixteen and glowing with naughty inevitability. And in my haste to get back into my room before the housemistress did her rounds, I’d left my coat in the arms of the local buck I’d gone to meet, and was wearing nothing but my slip. I was a beacon of silk, sex and cigarette smoke.
‘You’re on a slippery slope, young lady,’ the house mistress scolded when she apprehended me, ‘slipping down to utter degradation.’
To this day, the silk slip still makes me think of a woman on the brink of badness – still clinging on to the last vestiges of innocence but ultimately ready to accept her fate as one of life’s bad girls.
Want proof? Here are my all-time slip-wearing bad-girl favourites…
The origin of the species, Courtney Love owned, patented and trademarked the slip as the perfect sartorial expression of reckless behaviour and lost morals. Worn with army boots and too much red lipstick, her slip defined an era.
If Courtney Love popularised the slip, Kate Moss perfected it. In 1993 she wore a completely sheer one to a party, accessorised with just a fresh face and some black knickers – and thus her glorious fall from grace was confirmed.
Everyone’s favourite bad gal does it with sportswear. Daytime or evening, Rihanna has no qualms about taking the boudoir outside, sashaying around in silk and sneakers like only a true lush can.
Forget the slippery slope; Michelle Pfeiffer as Elvira Hancock in Scarface is already well and truly bad. And never has bad looked so deliciously good: languid, lissom and absolutely iconic, who could ever forget her entrance in the blue slip dress?
Punk’s ultimate sex siren, Debbie Harry knew the powers of a barely-there silken slip like no other. Bed hair, straps sliding off the shoulders, sunlight shining through her legs, the images of her New York silken daydreams mean one thing only.