What do fashion editors really wear?

Fashion editors: Rebecca Lowthorpe, Penny Martin, Anne-Marie Curtis and Grace Coddington. Photos / Getty Images

During fashion month, there are 24 zillion images of Fashion Show Attendees orbiting the Earth via satellite, Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr... yet hardly any of them are of real fashion editors. Roughly 23,999 zillion are the peacocks, dressed in clothes so bizarre that they will never see the light of another day, except possibly at Montenegro Fashion Week in 2017, when some fashion student who got lucky on eBay will pass them off as vintage.

The reason real fashion editors (as opposed to ones played by Anne Hathaway) hardly ever get snapped in the street is, by and large, because they haven't borrowed their outfits from a big label, or been paid to wear a "niche" look by some newly minted designer from Kazakhstan. Since they have forked out their own hard-earned cash, their clothes are likely to be slightly more practical than the sheer chiffon, backless blouse I saw one attendee (a gallery owner) wearing in New York last February. As we exited the show, she actually took off her coat so that the photographers outside could get a full frontal shot of her nipples. It was snowing at the time.

Nor do real fash eds have sufficient time to traverse a zebra crossing the 48 times apparently required to get a "spontaneous" shot. Such time deficits mean they generally wear a uniform, the details of which subtly alter each season - a different lapel or neckline, an infinitesimally small variation on the narrow trouser (at the moment it's all about the ankle kick-flare), a new statement bag and shoe. The latter is unlikely to be a pair of gravity-defying high heels or gladiator sandal-boots that take half an hour to tie up, but a quietly killer shoe that adds bite to navy trousers. This season it's a toss up between Saint Laurent's kitten-heeled ankle boot, Tabitha Simmons's kitten-heeled loafer and Miu Miu's patent block heels.

These understated details tend to be lost on the average street-style snapper, whose eye has been bludgeoned by Day-Glo fox fur and "conceptual" textures. Most fashion editors opt for navy blue, sprinkled with grey and, if they're pushing the boat out, khaki. Older grandes dames who earned their (monochrome) stripes in the 80s still do head-to-toe black. Grace Coddington, the magnificently talented creative director of US Vogue, has been wearing the same black uniform for at least 30 years - the changing nuances of which are so discreet that she may be the only person who can identify them.

Grace Coddington, creative director of US Vogue. Photos / Getty Images

Most fashion editors don't do prints, which are deemed too conspicuous and thus can't be dragged out next season. Also, fashion editors are studiously not trying to stand out. Rebecca Lowthorpe, the fashion features director of ELLE magazine, whose 5ft 11in height and sharp cheekbones could easily make her a peacock, points out that she's at the shows to work, "and it's a lot of work: first show at 9am. I just need clothes that are hugely serviceable and chic. I do care what I look like at the shows - I think everyone does - but being a peacock is very different and it's not for me, thanks."

Lowthorpe has her roster of timeless oversized coats, long skirts, big rollnecks and menswear-type tailoring that she gets from Margaret Howell, Prada, Celine and Vanessa Bruno - and updates them. This season's boosters include a pair of boyish trousers and buckled shoes, both from Comme des Garcons; long black boots, a black, narrow moleskin coat with skinny sleeves and a black mohair jumper, all from Rick Owens. She generally wears flats. "The last time I wore heels was for the ELLE Style Awards, and I can't tell you how uncomfortable they were."

Rebecca Lowthorpe, fashion features director of ELLE magazine. Photos / Getty Images

Contrary to popular perception, real fashion editors tend to budget with an iron control that would shame George Osborne. Anne-Marie Curtis, the perennially chic but understated fashion director of ELLE, buys the foundations of her show wardrobe at Joseph, including the navy brocade coat she's been wearing to shows this month. "I spend less as I get older. I think it's to do with being more comfortable with who you are and what you like."

Anne-Marie Curtis, fashion director of ELLE. Photos / Getty Images

Well-cut trousers - from Miu Miu and Marni, along with Joseph - are a must, as they mean you can flash some bare ankle, which looks feminine. Curtis also has a J.W. Anderson navy calf-length skirt which, if she wears it with ankle boots, doesn't need tights. "I pack lots of tops, which makes it look as though I have far more outfits than is the reality. And I always invest in a statement shoe: they're the easiest way to update. This season it's the elasticated ballet shoe from Celine."

Real fashion editors cultivate low-maintenance style. It may take years but, once they've honed it, they can get ready in 20 minutes - important when you've been at a business dinner until 1am and have a 9am show the following day. Minimal make-up, haircuts that can withstand the idiosyncratic blow-dries that are sometimes all you can book in Paris or Milan at 5pm on a Saturday, polish-free manicures (much longer-lasting than the other kind) and jewellery they've picked up on assignments in Rajasthan or Buenos Aires are all ways to personalise their uniforms.

Penny Martin, editor of The Gentlewoman. Photos / Getty Images

If it's sounding a mite penitential, it's not. But it is efficient. Penny Martin, editor of The Gentlewoman, one of fashion's more thoughtful magazines, is another front-row regular whose navy uniform is full of quietly delicious details. "I can absolutely see the appeal of fantasy and fashion's power to transform and transport," she says. "But in the end, I just don't want to come as anyone else. I love clothes, though - obvs."