Starting from her Notting Hill studio, Alice has grown and grown, almost entirely by word of mouth, to the point where she’s recently been able to open a “private dressing showroom” in a Soho loft. She makes dresses for urban nymphets who like liberal sprinklings of ruffles and fairy-dust sparkles in their midsummer night’s party-hopping wardrobes. Come spring, they’ll be calling Alice for an appointment to riffle through a vaguely thirties-cum-fifties collection that she describes as having been inspired by a James Thurber story about a princess who asked for the moon. Decisions, decisions! Will it be a rose-pink chiffon dress with ivory, crystal-beaded French lace at the shoulders and a ribbon tied in a bow at the waist? An innocent white eyelet gown with an aqua lining peeping through? Or that mouth-watering, full-length lingerie dress in palest mango sorbet chiffon with a cutout lace bodice? Whichever they choose, this is a collection that has no pretensions about altering the path of fashion. Temperley’s clothes will never cut it with London’s serious avant-garde, but rather will waft along effortlessly on the young lady-like breeze that’s blowing through springand manage it with a lot of charm.
Spring 2004 Ready-to-Wear
September 20, 2003 London
Alice Temperley is London’s answer to Zac Posen, in female form: an out-of-nowhere designer who has already gathered an adoring posse of young socialites, fashion eds, and models who whip around town, flipping their pastel-hued, scallop-edged hems and passing on her name with delighted sighs.
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