'Early adoption of the modern frill is a high-risk strategy. The pioneering frill-seeker appears to have got dressed up in something fussy and fancy, not something chic and stylish'
For a long time, frills have been a detail added to make things look fancy. Fancy is not, you may have noticed, a term of high praise in this column, or any fashion column in the last half-century. Fancy isn't chic, or stylish. Fancy is quite the opposite. The aesthetic of our age demonises clutter, and frills have become little more than visual clutter. Frankly, we have become snobbish about frills.
The narrative of fashion being what it is, it was therefore only a matter of time until the frill made a resounding comeback. Catwalk shows for Lanvin and Givenchy in Paris, and for Gucci in Milan, all included dresses with unmissable frills.
Unmissable is the key word here. The frill as rebooted for summer 2013 is a strident, definite sort of a frill. The changes are marked in simplicity, texture and scale: rather than narrow, soft frills repeated ad infinitum around the edge of a garment like cocktail-hour small talk, you have one bold, stiffened, cap-locked detail. Where traditional frills echoed the neat symmetry of a suburban flower bed, the modern frill is asymmetric and unexpected. The frill on the dress I am wearing today reminds me less of petals or sand ripples than of the Japanese print the Great Wave Off Kanagawa. It is elegant, yet a force to be reckoned with.
Early adoption of the modern frill is a high-risk strategy. To those as yet unenlightened, the pioneering frill-seeker appears to have got dressed up in something fussy and fancy, rather than chic and stylish. You could put together a moodboard – postcards of the Great Wave, catwalk photos, perhaps a Brancusi– to enlighten people, but I wouldn't. A bit too Jehovah's Witness.
Instead, enjoy confusing people. Experiment with a frill – this is Lanvin, but try Zara– and wear it somewhere frill-free. There's no point fudging things by wearing frills to a garden party; wear your frill, with pride, to places with poured concrete floors and Borgen-inspired lighting.
Your "frill", not "frills", you will have noticed. The modern frill is singular – one great surging wave, not a choppy sea. The frill may be back, but you can have too much of a good thing.
• Jess wears dress, £1,950, by Lanvin, from Harrods. Block heel sandals, £60, topshop.com.
Photograph: David Newby for the Guardian. Styling: Lucy Trott at Carol Hayes Management. Makeup: Dani Richardson using Sisley Cosmetics.