Clogs, chore jackets, straw hats and woven baskets are the look of the season. But are the brands and people embracing this aesthetic really doing any gardening?

Lately, it feels like you can’t move for clogs. Everywhere you look, it’s straw hats, dungarees, floaty dresses, chore jackets and basket bags – and that’s in city centres, not garden centres. This is the rise of “allotmentcore” – somewhere between the linen-clad luxury of the “coastal grandmother” and the whimsical outdoorsiness of “cottagecore” – and it’s coming for all of our autumns.

“I’d describe it as Little House on the Prairie meets Felicity Kendal in The Good Life, meets Bill and Ben,” says Mal James, professor of fashion design at the University of Edinburgh. “With the overall style of an imaginary love child of Monty Don and Pamela Anderson, the reinvented queen of garden chic.” It’s true that Anderson – once most famous for sporting a high-leg red swimsuit – has more recently become a pioneer of the allotmentcore style, living “romantically” in midi dresses and bandanas, frequently clutching floral bouquets. Popular brands include the family-run Carrier Company from Norfolk, Danish designers Skall Studio and Welsh-founded lifestyle label Toast. As online fashion publication Who What Wear put it: “If it looks like you’re ready to sport a pair of pruning shears at any moment, you’ve got the look right.”

‘Ugly’ shoes, once the preserve of the catwalk, have gone mainstream. Why are so many people taking a walk on the wild side?

Until recently, a busy commuter train would be packed with people wearing low-key, unobtrusive shoes. An elegant and inoffensive pump, a sporty trainer or a polite and basic ballet flat, they were the type of shoes that said background extra rather than main character energy.

But now change is afoot. Deliberately strange designs are reaching new heights of desirability. Polarising rather than pretty, these shoes tend to be flat, a little bit orthopaedic and, according to the internet, “ugly”.

Demi Moore’s haute-couture maven attracts the attention of a gang of contemporary Robin Hood type clothes robbers in Riley’s fashion biz satire

Here is an entertaining, if very exhausting fantasy-caper about the fashion biz from Boots Riley, a madcap mile-a-minute melee of unadulterated ker-aziness. You might need a couple of ibuprofen and a lie-down afterwards. Demi Moore perhaps thought she was here getting a gamey starring role, comparable to her Oscar-nominated turn in the beauty-industry satire The Substance. In fact, the way the film is structured and edited, Moore is hardly more than a returning cameo, though a potent one.

She plays Christie Smith, a billionaire couture designer who has an office in a trendily designed city block which leans over at an experimental angle. Christie is the object of obsessive attention from “boosters”: supercool young outlaw women who, nettled by her arrogance, shoplift her clothes from upscale stores and sell them on at knockdown Robin Hood prices. They are Corvette (Keke Palmer), Sade (Naomi Ackie) and Mariah (Taylour Paige), the latter having the ability to, by holding her breath, turning herself into a white woman who is less likely to be challenged in a store; an interesting metaphor for what Frantz Fanon might have called black skin, white masks.

From AI aunties to long diaspora Uber phone calls, here is a selection of our favourite editions to celebrate our second anniversary

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The Long Wave is two! And over the past year, once again, it has surprised us with the breadth of stories and events in the diaspora.

The Long Wave has also evolved into a large community, with many readers getting in touch and sharing their thoughts, tips and sometimes their polite disagreements. We welcome and relish all of it. Here is the team’s selection of our favourite editions.

Susan Lyall worked with actor Jeremy Strong to research the Meta CEO’s favorite Nikes and luxury sweaters

The first Aaron Sorkin Facebook movie, 2010’s The Social Network, helped cement the early aughts image of Mark Zuckerberg rebelling against corporate norms in rumpled hoodies and T-shirts.

The follow-up, The Social Reckoning, is carbon-dated from 2019 to 2021. This is “post-hoodie”, as the movie’s costume designer, Susan Lyall, describes it, “post-thumbing his nose” to formality. It is also peak robot. Zuckerberg’s reserved wardrobe of suits or interchangeable long-sleeved shirts echo his chilling composure throughout, even as fury simmers under the surface.

Thanks to Jilly Cooper, tartan and tweed, waxed jackets and wellies are a style vibe right now

British heritage, in fashion terms, is a country where it is permanently October. A conker-brown and pleasant land, if you will. Brand Britain in the style sense comes into its own in autumn: roaring fires, muddy lanes, damp dogs. Waxed jackets and chunky knits, tartan and tweed, jaunty scarves to banish draughts. Clothes for going on a hearty walk, but with a hip flask in your pocket. Fashion has been mining this seam since long before Brideshead Revisited made battered evening dresses and Oxford bags look romantic, and it keeps returning, because trad British style is satisfyingly utilitarian while also being loaded with enough backstory (class, history, eccentricity) to be intriguing and reinventable.

Also: Rivals. It has taken considerable restraint for me not to mention Rivals in the whole of the first paragraph, because it is now a matter of mere weeks until we get our next Jilly Cooper fix and I, for one, cannot wait. Cannot wait for Cameron stalking the corridors in her foxy power suits, for Taggie in her cute jeans and jumpers, for Valerie in head-to-toe tweed and an aggressive amount of blusher. The success of Rivals has done for old-school British dressing what Emily in Paris did for the beret, only with better jokes and more adultery. Jolly hockey sticks style is the new French girl chic. This fantasy is homegrown, which makes it both more embarrassing and harder to resist. Just as Emily and her friends and frenemies are a camp send-up of fashionable Paris, Rivals is a fond, nostalgic semi-parody of the British wardrobe. The show’s costume designer, Ray Holman, has drawn on original 1980s pieces from Dunhill and Mulberry for inspiration. With Liberty fabrics, nods to polo uniforms and sturdy waxed coats, he has brought the Sloane ranger back into the fashion conversation for the first time in years.

The ubiquitous carrier has been given a four-figure makeover. But why has an everyday bag associated with running errands and US supermarkets become so aspirational?

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If you were in the blessed position of having £500 to spend on a bag, what would you look for? Would it be made of cotton? A nice light shade bound to sully quickly, like “paper white” or ecru? Would you want something that looks a lot like those ubiquitous totes sold by a certain US supermarket chain for a couple of dollars?

No, thought not. But there are plenty of options if you do. Phoebe Philo, former Celine designer and quiet luxury pioneer, offers a white canvas shopper, made entirely from cotton except for the silver brass hardware of its internal zipped pocket, for £450. Luxury Swedish brand Toteme’s “effortless tote bag” is made from organic cotton canvas and is available in dark brown, red or classic ecru. It goes for £510. Tom Ford’s version, at £1,600, differentiates itself a little, with a body made exclusively of cotton canvas but trims and handles from calfskin. Prada’s, which features leather details and metal hardware, could be yours for over £2,000.

One the most famous dresses of this century, it was worn by royalty and A-list celebrities in the noughties. Its latest fans are Maga women. Here, the designer, and former mentor to Victoria Beckham, reveals the story behind it

The story of one of the most photographed and ripped-off dresses of the last 50 years came together with a simple zip. It was 1998; the designer Roland Mouret had shown his first collection at London fashion week and was looking for a way to produce good clothes at speed. He connected with a small British atelier and it was there that some old-school industry wisdom would alter his course: he learned that a longer seam doesn’t actually cost any more than a shorter one.

Despite his brilliantly instinctive approach to design, it was like cracking a code – and steered him towards the dress that would make his name. “My brain was buzzing!” he says. “I hadn’t thought about it before – if you extend a top by 50cm, it becomes a whole outfit. You just need accessories. Focusing on dresses gives you a signature piece at the right price.”