Cast your mind back to 2004, when Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton, pop culture’s favourite Pollyannas, reigned supreme in a spectrum of powder-hued velour tracksuits, the same style that clung to the bodies of countless valley girls, hot moms (not regular moms), and suburban teenagers, most of whom wore it with the hems insouciantly tucked into a pair of tan suede UGG boots. That same year, at her wedding to K-Fed, Britney Spears regrettably went so far as to make every one of her bridesmaids wear candy floss-pink, rhinestone-embellished versions, a picture that has somehow manages to overshadow even the most appealing virtues of velour, velvet’s less stiff and more stretchy woven cousin. It’s an inherent shame that our collective memory chooses to focus on such bastions of bad taste, considering the plush touch-me-now fabric has indeed had many a finer moment. Who could forget Roger Moore as 007 in 1985’s A View to Kill, incognito in his midnight-blue loungewear, elegantly finished with rounded collar and white piping? It’s almost enough to cleanse the palette of the last decade and a half. Sartorially speaking, it’s best advised to approach velour with a distinct seventies flair, draped and louche in rich jewel tones, rather than a figure-hugging saccharine-hued offender, as celebrated 'ironically' by Generation Vetements. In décor, the slight stretch of the fabric makes it all the more suited to soft furnishings, luxuriously indulgent against the touch of bare skin (more so than its aforementioned coarser cousin). Be warned, though, it’s one or the other. Too much velour and subtlety is out the door.
Photo: Lacoste A/W '16. This article was originally written for and published by Dansk.