There was very little British, heritage or in fact anything at all that screamed JAEGER LONDON from the rooftops at the brand's AW10 runway show. Phoebe Philo's fingerprints were all over this one, from the collection's very grown up palette of sophisticated muted tones and neutrals (in stark contrast to their SS10 collection, the tomato-red silk harem trousered pseudo-jumpsuit the girls at Jaeger generously lent me for the show) stemming very much from her resurrection of both Chloe and more recently, Celine. It seems one of the ultimate British brands has had its tweeds curbed and its tailoring spiced up by the gentle touch of a chic Frenchified hand.
The same sort of minimalist Calvin Klein circa 1998 meets nod to the future via a shading hood here or sharp angular fold there which dominated at NYFW last week grabbed hold of the collection relentlessly insisting that, more than just immaculate suiting for the Mayfair destined, Jaeger London is for those inclined to hit the streets of any major international city with a bit of edge underscored by chicness in overdrive. Suede jodhpurs with zips at right angles up and down the trouser lent a bit of attitude to an otherwise pared down look consisting of tweed blazer cum black jumper. A loose chainmail knit revealed a sexy flash of skin a la Frances whilst maintaining that British reserve by concealing the overt sexiness with a bulky jacket casually thrown over. There was even a bit of (gasp) fur thrown in for good measure--bunny from the looks of it, though it's impossible with these things to determine the authenticity of its organicness from afar. And Noel Stewart-esque scarf-hoods really kept things feeling modern. 
There was this overall sense of the laxidasical, models in super-oversized blazers and kite-sized and shaped structured wool coats seemed to slouch as they walked (hey, I can do that!), hair messily half-tucked into a crisp collar brushing against there necklines. And we all know how I love me some slouch. This is the Jaeger that I know and love, the vintage Jaeger menswear bits--herringbones and the like--that one fishes out from a pile of discarded tailored pieces and then sports with leggings and graphic tees as passers by assail you with questions of "where did you get that blazer?" "Stella?" "Donna." Welcome to my £10 rail (broad grin). It was exciting to see the folks at such an ancient brand (145 years!) play with the popular conceptions and flea market reinventions of their heritage.
I mean, when you've been around that long, at least the lifespans of five or six creative directors, you've got to hand it to the consumer, the people who wear the brand to keep it and its heritage alive. It's how Jaeger continues to make its presence felt both on and off the runways that should constitute at least part of its RTW design ethos. And, obviously, as the recession continues to drag its fiscally irresponsible heels, this is as smart a retail strategy as ever.
But the best part, for me (alas, they're fabulousness eluded the reach of my camera), were the shoes. Little sheared sheepskin stiletto booties in assorted honeyed and chestnut leathers, perfect for tromping through molted leaves in a melee of reds, mustards and brown come mid-September. I have to have to have to have to have a pair. They're like the love shoe children of Ugg and Jimmy Choo. Now there's a half-Australian, half-Malaysian offspring I'd really like to sink my feet into.
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