Bring No Clothes : Bloomsbury and the Philosophy of Fashion /anglais

by Charlie Porter

Why do we wear what we wear? To answer this question, we must go back and unlock the wardrobes of the early twentieth century, when fashion as we know it was born.

In Bring No Clothes , acclaimed fashion writer Charlie Porter brings us face to face with six members of the Bloomsbury Group-the collective of creatives and thinkers who were in the vanguard of a social and sartorial revolution. Each of them offers fresh insight into the constraints and possibilities of fashion from the stifling repression of E. M. Forster's top buttons to the creativity of Vanessa Bell's wayward hems; from the sheer pleasure of Ottoline Morrell's lavish dresses to the clashing self-consciousness of Virginia Woolf's orange stockings; from Duncan Grant's liberated play with nudity to John Maynard Keynes's power play in the traditional suit. As Porter carefully unpicks what they wore and how they wore it, we see how clothing can be a means of creative, intellectual and sexual liberation, or, conversely, a tool for patriarchal control.

As he travels through libraries, archives, attics and studios, Porter uncovers new evidence about his subjects, revealing them in a thrillingly intimate, vivid new light. And, as he begins making his own clothing, his own perspective on fashion-and on life-starts to change. In the end, he shows, we should all 'bring no clothes,' embracing not just a new way with fashion but a new philosophy of living-one which activates the connections between the way we dress and the way we think, act and love.

Genres: Fashion, Nonfiction, History, Art, LGBT, Fashion History, British Literature

368 pages, Hardcover

Published September 7, 2023

About the author

Charlie Porter is a writer, fashion critic and curator. He has written for the Financial Times, the Guardian, The New York Times, GQ, Luncheon, i-D and Fantastic Man, and has been described as one of the most influential fashion journalists of his time. Porter co-runs the London queer rave Chapter 10, and is a trustee of the Friends of Arnold Circus, where he is also a volunteer gardener. He lives in London.

Reviews

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm writing this in the British Library. I'm wearing a sheer black caftan and a tiny pair of shorts.

See, the description above is why I find Charlie Porter such a charming narrator - I love his exuberant attitude to clothes whether it's describing the off-beat garments he's made and wears or his attention to the dress (and undress) of the Bloomsberries. There's something almost wholesome, a bit innocent and untroubled as he explores the fashion choices of Virginia Woolf, Vanessa Bell, Maynard Keynes, Duncan Grant, EM Forster and Ottoline Morrell. It's probably mostly Woolf who is self-conscious about dress as a materiality which intersects with subjectivity and the currents of modernism, as we can easily trace from her diaries and novels but that doesn't mean it's not interesting to view the others via that lens.

Porter is not an academic so we shouldn't go in with expectations of this using frameworks of thing theory, visuality or the materialisms of modernism. And it would be easy to pick this apart as it moves swiftly between biography, autobiography/memoir, and meditations on fashion. Porter is a well-established fashion journalist, knows his way around the shows (his discussion of the Comme des Garcons show that took its inspiration from Woolf's Orlando is a good example) and has curated an exhibition at Vanessa Bell's home. What this means - and what comes over - is the enthusiasm of a visitor to a field that scholarly work inhabits but rarely with such brio and panache as we find here.

It's certainly no revelation that fashion has a place in the theorisation of cultural materialism, and Porter is especially concerned with dress and queerness: both a way to hide sexual non-conformity by performing heteronormativity (Forster, Keynes), and as a marker of freedom from the constraints of gender binaries, patriarchy and, to a lesser extent here, capitalism and consumption. Issues of fashion and anti-fashion underpin the narrative which is organised as a series of mini biographies.

In many cases the chapters are more about the sex lives of the subjects with clothes dropping out of that discussion, particularly, perhaps, when it comes to the men who had less freedom in terms of formal clothing than women do. In that sense, this does look back to the 'living in squares, loving in triangles' view of the Bloomsbury group, which is not inaccurate but, equally, is nothing new. It's a shame that the many fascinating photos that are included are not optimised as they're often difficult to see. There are also places where Porter has a tendency to over-read, so keen is he to see queer sex in every encounter: in reading a letter from Roger Fry to Vanessa Bell in 1917, for example, which describes how Ottoline Morrell 'and Virginia have fallen into each other's arms and each flatters t'other to the top of their bents', Porter desperately wants this to be a literal sexual liaison.

Still, these are niggles and easily overcome. Some of Porter's own memories of his struggles as a queer man are immensely moving and make his reading of EM Forster, with whom he sympathises, especially valuable - even if there's not much enlightening to say about Forster's use of fashion in either his own life or in his novels.

I can easily see why other reviews have seen this as uneven because it is - and there's call for a philosophy of fashion that doesn't intersect with academic work being done in this area. All the same, as long as this is recognised as a personal, subjective and largely uncritical approach to thinking about Bloomsbury fashion, it's an enjoyable take from a writer whose company I enjoyed.

3.5 stars rounded up because Porter's a treasure!

[Tim M · Rating 1 out of 5]

Genuinely interesting topic. The writing is very poor. Arguments are unsubstantiated (when they easily could be) history is viewed by todays standards (Vanessa Bell is an “ally”) in a way that feels immature and silly. Authors presence feels unnecessary. Whole thing feels like an undergraduate writing project that lacks the seriousness and depth it deserves.

[L · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing of this book reads very much like a rushed uni assignment that was put together 2 days before due date after 8 weeks of procrastination. It is a unbalanced mix of jumpy historical retelling, questionable analysis and oddly random doses of personal musings from a research diary, all of which is encased in a light casual tone. Although, it was admittedly entertaining to read it as an opinion gossip column rather than from the lens of academic paper. The Bloomsbury subjects and history are rather fascinating, so it is a shame that the book lacks any serious grounded analysis and depth.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bring No Clothes: Bloomsbury and the Philosophy of Fashion is not a conventional history or biography of the Bloomsbury group, nor a philosophical analysis of fashion per se. It is a more personal, anecdotal book. Each chapter focuses on a particular Bloomsbury figure, providing illustrated vignettes of their relationships with clothes, sexuality, art, politics, and each other. Having read Porter's What Artists Wear and heard him discuss Bring No Clothes: Bloomsbury and the Philosophy of Fashion at an event, I knew to expect this and enjoyed it on its own merits. Those anticipating a more academic book by a historian or philosopher might be disappointed not to find more substantive and systematic analysis. I found it insightful nonetheless and loved the extensive illustrations, which were also a highlight of What Artists Wear.

The thesis of Bring No Clothes: Bloomsbury and the Philosophy of Fashion centres upon the importance of clothes and the messages they send when worn. He insists that we are all experts in clothing, whether we claim to take an interest in fashion or not. Among the Bloomsbury set, he posits that some wore conventional clothing as a disguise or felt trapped by it, while others dressed in distinctive and rebellious styles. The title 'bring no clothes' refers to a letter from Virginia Woolf to T.S. Eliot, in which she instructed him not to bring formal eveningwear when visiting. The Bloomsbury group sought to relax social restrictions, including the many around clothing. They were harbingers of the more casual mode of dress that is normal in the twenty-first century in most, but by no means all, settings.

Alongside accounts of the Bloomsbury group, Porter includes his own experiences and reflections on learning to make clothes, as well as outlining a theory of 'tension' as the defining quality of garments. I like this idea and would appreciate seeing it developed in greater depth. I found Bring No Clothes: Bloomsbury and the Philosophy of Fashion highly readable and engaging. It is an idiosyncratic and visually pleasing book of historical fashion writing. I learned some intriguing and unsettling facts about members of the Bloomsbury group (e.g. John Maynard Keynes was keen on eugenics). Porter's narrative may be a bit unsystematic, but his liberal inclusion of letters, photographs, and garments fills the book with delightfully rich material detail. For more on the theory and philosophy fashion, I recommend Thinking Through Fashion: A Guide to Key Theorists.

[Tom Hutton · Rating 1 out of 5]

A rich subject with so much potential, but quite honestly one of the worst books I've ever read. It feels like the essay of a 2nd year undergraduate studying fashion communication at a second rate university.

Self indulgent, poorly written, and insufferably patronising. Porter is grasping at straws at the best of times, taking leaps and bounds in his arguments and visual analysis and still falling flat. Not to mention the absurd historical revisionism; Vanessa Bell as an 'ally’, Virginia Woolf as trans? Please. The Bloomsbury group would read this and laugh their cotton socks off at such immature writing.

Porter has the annoying habit of inserting himself into every single paragraph with a completely unrelated anecdote or quip (they are never funny nor clever or drive the ‘philosophy’ of the book forward)

Really, it felt like far too much writing for what should have been a much smaller and focused book. Remove all the unnecessary Porter-isms and patronising lecturing and focus on the actual interesting things (the correspondence between each of the members, the clothes they wore, what we can glean from that). Paragraphs on the atrocities of the British empire (whilst true) do absolutely nothing for the book, nor the philosophy it’s trying to establish.

Don’t get me started on the chapter dedicated to measuring cupboard spaces to the centimetre, all to conclude with “they had less space than we do so that means less clothes”. Really?

[Kiely · Rating 5 out of 5]

“While we've been talking about Bloomsbury, clothes, philosophy, what we've really been talking about is the tension within humans and between humans, and the primal role that clothing plays in navigating that tension. That 'tension' could also be called love.”

I loved this book!!!! I bought it at the Tate Britain in London, and I was convinced to buy it after flipping through it and seeing the question: “It was bugging me: where were all their clothes?” at the beginning of the Vanessa Bell chapter — I do love a book about research and trying to unravel history mysteries, especially when the book directly refers to the aggravations of trying to uncover answers that might just never be found!!! I’ve always been fascinated by the Bloomsbury group, and this book was a really fun and accessible way to learn about their lives, loves, friends, foes, and of course the art that they all produced. It was especially fun to learn about the life of E.M. Forster, whomst I love and whomst wrote my favorite book ever, A Room with a View <3

Charlie Porter wrote this book in a way that was very accessible, and I loved the ways that he brought the story down to his own life: his own struggle with gender presentation and queerness as a young person, his beginning to make his own clothes after his mother died, the ways that the Bloomsbury group impacted his own understanding of fashion, the media, the ways that we present ourselves to others and how the clothes that we wear can change that. Sometimes his analysis is a bit surface-level, but I think the good parts of the book far outweigh the bad tbh!! This book also features some of the worst photography of archival clothing ever seen in a professional publication and literally taken on Porter’s iPhone, but oh well, lol! The only good archival clothing photo was from the Met Costume Institute, go figure!

I really enjoyed this book immensely and I can’t wait to read Porter’s WHAT ARTISTS WEAR next, and also to read TO THE LIGHTHOUSE, and also to reread MRS DALLOWAY, and also to get my ass to Charleston the next time I go to England <3

(4.5 stars)


“I live in my clothes. I want to live fully. I cannot live fully if I do not understand what I live in.”

[Kevin Clark · Rating 5 out of 5]

A life changing book if you’ll allow it to be. So many things to think about that I’d never even thought about thinking about. Take seriously the early quote about describing rather than explaining to really understand and enjoy this.

[Tass · Rating 2 out of 5]

oh dear. apologies to who reads this, it is all summarised from the Many paragraphs i sent to my poor partner whilst reading this thing.

in short, i deeply disliked porter’s choices in how to present all of this. and i think it was falsely advertised, because porter’s apparently immersive-philosophical aim in the writing itself is far from the book this claims to be on the outside. key reason for this anger: my expectations were far from met.

what i assume is an all-consuming desire to subvert traditional + academic histories by ceaselessly Embodying a different philosophy just results in writing that comes across as quite patronising. this is not a fact of subversive historical writing, this is a fact of porter’s decisions here (see Saidiya Hartman for a successful example of radical intersectional reframing). and yes, conspicuously mentioning the wittgenstein idea “don’t explain, only describe” does itself ironically go some way to Explain porter’s choices, but having to signpost this so unsubtly makes me wonder how successful this then really was as a goal.

i went to a talk porter did on this book before getting a copy, and i was genuinely amazed by the resources he was given access to and the depth of research he undertook, but this barely came across in the written work. what historical analysis was present often felt shallow and incoherent, and was used to seemingly prop up pre-existing convictions more often than porter was led by the historical figures’ own words or deeds.

this in contrast felt, to me, like being forced unconsenting through a half-baked philosophical exercise that was neither expected nor wanted. i could give it a pass for the majority of the work, but the irreverent tone during the abysmal chapter on virginia woolf’s blackface had me RAGING. like i am astounded that chapter made it past ANY layers of editing without somebody raising concerns.

another common criticism i’ve seen is porter putting modern labels on members of the bloomsbury group - i personally have no issue with theorising how historical figures may have experienced gender and sexuality within our modern paradigms. i often do the same myself because finding precedent and ballast for your own forms of existence is a very rewarding process. but porter seems to unseriously throw around current labels like mentioning them at ALL constitutes a deconstruction of cisheteropatriarchal violence.

wasn’t upset about the inclusion of autobiographical sections on porter’s own experimentation with clothes-making. it’s warming to see inspiration carried through in different ways. but i do wish it took up a slightly smaller percentage of this book, and that porter hadn’t tried to unnecessarily extend that patchwork informality to the writing style as well

a shame as i thought the exhibition was rather well curated.

tl;dr - oh dear.

[Jullmua · Rating 1 out of 5]

Careful, spoilers ahead!
First, I googled whether Charlie Porter’s native language is English—maybe he learned it as a second language (like I am learning it), or maybe it’s a bad translation. No. He chose to write this way: these words, these language constructions, this stylistic choice. My second guess was that it’s ChatGPT AI slop—the timing of publishing fits. But my actual theory is that he had a recorder, maybe was at a bar, had a conversation about the Bloomsbury Group, and got carried away with side stories and his very modern optics and opinions. Then he just printed it without any editing.
I’m not British, so I didn’t know anything about the Bloomsbury Group, and the book seemed like a great entry point. Wrong! Wikipedia could tell me more about their talents than Porter—but I do know who is bisexual and who is gay. That’s crucial for character development, I guess. Before you come for me—my problem isn’t with queerness, it’s with labels. The main motto of this book is “describe, not explain.” The analysis is so superficial and shallow. Especially when it comes to fashion—at some point he just describes the pictures, like in an English exam: “In this picture you can see…” Why are there so many reflections on himself? It’s like: “I want to tell about the backstage of a Dior show and that I saw Justin Timberlake, but the book is about the 1910s. What’s my connection? Pins! Brilliant!” What???!
I really wanted to love this book—the idea of fashion and styling telling stories, especially ones that weren’t allowed to be told (especially hidden in the closet) was so smart. But the execution is terrible. The man had so much privilege to access all of those pictures, materials, fashion connections, and it all turned into a mathematical problem he couldn’t solve (the wardrobe problems are a mockery). Very sad.

[eleanorb]

gets by on the interestingness of its subjects in spite of some very tenuous superlative claims

[Diana de Jong · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-researched book on a very interesting topic. Lots of fascinating facts about the six members of the Bloomsbury group, and the text is larded with numerous pictures that visualise their unorthodox lifestyle, i.e. for the early twentieth century. The hardcover edition is an elegantly designed gem.

Two drawbacks hinder the flow of the narrative: Porter weaves many personal anecdotes into the story, not all of which have added value. On the contrary, they often distract from the interesting observations. Another flaw would be the fact that Porter dissects the Bloomsbury group through 21st century queer glasses. “If Maynard Keynes were alive now, he could just go on Grindr”, “If Carrington were alive today, she’d be able to explore non-binary as a way of finding peace with her gender”. Unnecessary and at times annoying.

Interesting is the closing chapter, in which Porter explores the concept of tension in relation to fashion, and thus adds a philosophical layer to the historical angle. So, all in all, I spent quite a few delightful hours with Bring No Clothes.

[Lillian Crawford · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is not a serious book—it never decides whether to be memoir, fashion history, or biography. These things could effectively be combined by a better writer, but it reads like a quirky GQ article bloated out to over 300 pages. The pictures are excellent and well-chosen, but the analysis is incredibly frustrating. The constant references to the present, and projections of contemporary identity politics, made me want to scream.

[Kimberly Uhuru · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting thoughts on.dressing as a signifier of identity and a means of personal expression. The writing is all over the place, but I was willing to overlook it because the topic is engaging.

[Louis · Rating 2 out of 5]

Could have been so interesting but Porter's writing has no nuance or historical analysis and rather reads like a 2016 Tumblr post. Comes off as very insufferable - a great topic and title wasted.

[mia · Rating 3 out of 5]

A foolish form of procrastination when I should be finishing my coursework essay (I have 36 hours left x) Enjoyed! Although more substantiation of arguments and less self-insertion might have served it well lol

[Fozz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured this. After visiting Charleston in the Summer, I’ve had a renewed fascination with the Bloomsbury Group. This book was perfect to quench that thirst, tackling topics like gender, sex, colonialism, Empire, and class in a modern way that still acknowledged the contemporary circumstances. Porter is a brilliant writer and has now changed the way I look at clothes.

[Christian · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5. Enjoyed the premise. The opinions were reaching and the black and white photos left a lot to the imagination. Better served as an article.

[Cooper · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/4.5

[Bertie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing style is ick worthy, not to mention the way the author makes broad strokes about how Bloomsbury group members would exist in the 21st century. But the intrigue, connections and essence Porter is trying to communicate is fascinating. I wish Porter had made me care about how the Bloomsbury relates to his life and 21st century fashion but reflections on his own life and queerness felt uncomfortably shoehorned in and uninteresting.

[Jeanne Kinoo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Perfectly describes the tension between clothes as the embodied symbols of social restrictions and clothes as essential tools in the construction of a personal (artistic) narrative.

[Scott JB · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm giving this a three-star rating overall, which feels harsh, but in fact I really enjoyed the idea. Porter looks at the Bloomsbury group's relationship to clothing and uses it as grounds to encourage us to be more conscious about our own relationship with what we wear - what traditions we wish to break, whether we've been trained to like one thing or another, to have a gendered or class-bound or colonial relationship with clothes.

Perhaps the problem is that he says this very clearly and very beautifully right off at the start, and after the Woolf chapter, he never quite seems to hit the same depth again. There are a couple of great moments in the EM Forster section, and some nice lines about Duncan Grant, but overall it started to feel like we were seeing the same thing over and over: the rigidity of suits can disguise queerness, can reflect people's repression or class, or allow them to hide in plain sight; the old tightness of corsets can be rejected in favour of looser clothing. I liked the bits where Porter talks about starting to make his own clothes, and looking scruffy; but his other moments of self-insertion don't quite work. He also provides a few small insights into fringe figures or negative sides to Bloomsbury: the Dreadnought hoax, the lives of their servants, etc; but these are very short, and rather than it providing extra depth and a new perspective, they end up feeling under-explored and disappointing. I wanted to read more about the servants especially (it having been a long time, more than 15 years, since I read Alison Light's book on Woolf and her main servant Nellie Boxall.)

I did like his voice a lot though: clear and simple, selecting his quotations carefully. It's a very pleasurable book to spend time in. I just wished it had stepped outside of its original premise more, perhaps by giving some of those shorter chapters, and fringe figures, more space.

[Will · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's an interesting book and absolutely worth a read for some insight into the clothes and lives of the Bloomsbury set. The things it does well, it does well, picking out the details of clothes, relating them to thought and society at the time. Everything is presented engagingly, but it does read like journalism rather than an academic work (neither to its credit nor discredit, merely an observation). The fact that Porter highlights well and frequently the privilege that allowed the Bloomsbury set to live as they did was also welcomed.

I must say that some arguments are a little tenuous, but maybe more rigorous arguments aren't needed, the reader can easily tell what is fact and what is Porter's thought.

The main thing that detracts from the work is how much Porter himself features in the book. Whilst I welcome Porter being a feature of the introduction and post-script, and even some small anecdotes for effect in the main text, some chapters felt to have about as many words dedicated to Porter's life, feelings, and experiences, as the subject. This again would have been fine if the book was presented as being 'what Porter thinks of and relates to about the Bloomsbury set', rather than being presented as a book about that set.

[Tig · Rating 3 out of 5]

Unlike other reviewers, I didn't mind Porter inserting himself into the book; it felt natural for him to share his personal responses to a group who are of such importance in the history of queer Britain. His discussion of the philosophy and iconography of their clothes - buttoned up versus loose and flowing - was very interesting. His writing style is utterly different from anything I've read before. He's a journalist, but his style reads like that of someone who has never been taught how to construct a sentence, let alone an argument. Like the fascinating clothes he sews for himself throughout the book, it is rule-breaking, lacks coherent structure and leaves multiple threads dangling unresolved (I've no idea if that last statement is true of his clothes). Once I got used to it - and accepted this was not a form of writing I had ever encountered before in published form - it didn't distract too much from the subject, which was fascinating. Porter teases out many interesting facts and gives a fine commentary on and dissection of clothes as worn by the Bloomsbury group, and how they reflect on the people inside them. The photographs are awful and deserved proper glossy reproduction so we could actually see what he was being so insightful about.

[Mary Warnement · Rating 4 out of 5]

I considered buying this as soon as it appeared in 2023, but I was being careful about what I added to my library. I've read a library book, but I did order my own copy to have. That said, sometimes as I read this I thought...well, I wondered if Porter's philosophy of fashion really made sense to me. I one confused my sister by saying, "I like clothes but not fashion." She could not fathom my meaning, which was that I am not interested in the designers or brands or certainly don't care about wearing anything recognizable as such. I want something comfortable that suits the purpose I need as well as making me feel good about myself. I certainly agree with Porter's comments on fashion and authority. Sometime I thought he overstated the case about a historical figures feeling about their clothes based on their posture in a photograph. The photos are one of the reasons I wanted to own my own copy, to have them handy.
Reading about Grace Higgins's diary was a reminder that I want to read Mrs. Woolf and the Servants by Alison Light. I wonder if there are restrictions on whom can request Higgins's manuscript diary in the BL.

[Penny · Rating 2 out of 5]

Great idea for a book but unfortunately it's very poorly done.
Some of the photographs are so washed out that you can hardly make out who or what they are about.
The book is at its best when discussing the Bloomsbury group. However, Porter can't seem to stop talking about himself - if he tells us he is gay once, he tells us a hundred times!
And he makes a huge error in making sweeping statements that he tries to make out are factual. They aren't - they are his views and opinions only. He doesn't even bother to try and make arguments for these statements. In particular his 'facts' about men wearing suits are laughably silly.
I found it hard to believe that Porter is in his early 50s as the writing is so immature, often verging on childish. In more capable hands this subject could have been so much better.

[Nada · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is the writer's presence bringing anything of substance to the story? At points, I like this presence of a contemporary, albeit a bit irritating persona, at others he is like the narrator’s voice from Nabokov’s Pale Fire: inserting himself way too much.

He stays close to the people he writes about, there is tension like that of invading a personal space; this brings to light some elements of their lives that aged like fine wine when inspected from our current cultural perspective; but also racism, insane privilege.

It’s a nice reminder that even in a world much less documented than our own, a life lived leaves traces and archeology that is impossible to curate. What will survive us? Will someone inspect us?

3.5

[Isabel Budd · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed the content of the book and found it interesting however i feel that it couldn’t decide on a format, flitting between attempts at an academic essay, analysis of diary entries (often construing what was actually said to make a point), washed out photographs that didn’t help support the text and personal anecdotes doted throughout with a very very vague link (if even a link), this being said approaching from a perspective of someone with very very limited knowledge on the bloomsbury group it was informative and i have grasped much more of a knowledge on the individuals that participated and their lifestyles and impacts.

[Katy Wheatley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is exactly the kind of book I love. Not only did I learn a lot about Bloomsbury, but it was through an oblique and new approach that sheds interesting light on the group as individuals and as a dynamic. Furthermore, it worked as a kind of memoir of Porter's own experience of queerness and his self expression through fashion and eventually through making his own clothes. A multi faceted approach to a time I am interested in and the drawing of parallels between then and now, what has changed and what hasn't, made this such a richly interesting book.

[Carolyn Dailey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Porter takes readers on an illuminating journey through the history and meaning of clothing, exploring how style transcends the superficial to become a form of self-expression and creative rebellion. Drawing on art, literature, and cultural history, Porter examines how what we wear shapes—and is shaped by—our personal and collective narratives. With vivid storytelling and thought-provoking insights, this book will change the way you think about fashion, identity, and the profound role clothing plays in our lives.

[Abi · Rating 2 out of 5]

Usually I am quite open to an accessible writing style that is not too fussy with technical jargon, but the apparent rushed writing just stole any enjoyment I was getting from such an interesting subject. From noting that Woolf would be ‘cancelled’ nowadays, Bell is an ‘ally’, Forster is ‘spilling the tea’ and Morrel is not ‘demure’, the use of internet lexicon is just so jarring. Nevertheless, I do think the actual subject matter on Bloomsbury fashion is evidently passionately researched, I just that same attention could have been paid to the writing style itself.