Middleton's middle heralds a new era Lisa Armstrong heralds the much welcome return of the peplum. Peplums make your hips look bigger. In a good way. No one's going to look at a padded or boned or stiffened peplum and think: God, she's fat. Not unless she is fat. A peplum cannot undo that. It is clever, but not that clever. Peplums also add drama and sculpture to an outfit. They are the Zaha Hadid of wool crepe. If you are a minimalist looking for a bit of a change (notice I didn't say a minimalist who is tired of minimalism, because true minimalists believe that to be tired of minimalism is to be tired of life) then a peplum could be just the ticket. The plain black dress is the Janet and John of minimalism, but if it has a peplum it becomes Proust. Peplums return to release our flair And, like Proust, the peplum has staying power. They are everywhere in the spring/summer collections; but they were also all over the autumn/winter 2012 catwalks. The designers clearly decided they would hammer away until someone finally wore one out in public (Rihanna and Lady Gaga don't count, nor did Michelle Williams's tiddly one at the Oscars). And lo: someone did. Not just any someone. The trophy someone. The Duchess of Cambridge. This could herald a whole new era in clothes. Most of what has sold until now has been fluid or drapey or stretchy. If you wanted to get nihilistic about this, you could say clothes, by and large, have been all about making women appear to take up less and less space. Maybe that's why the clompy platform shoe won't go away. Like Manhattan, vertical expansion has been our only growth option. If you want to assert your physical presence, your right to occupy your entitled allotment on public transport and not squeeze into a corner while the big, burly bloke sitting next to you oozes into your space, his big splayed knees and feet forcing you into retreat, a big, stiff peplum could be your best chance in yonks. The peplum is a real look-at-me and, in particular, get-a-load-of-my-shape flourish. Antonio Berardi stuffed his with horsehair and lined them with tulle, old-school style. Phoebe Philo attached them to deep, detachable waistbands, turning them into pep-belts. Haider Ackermann, the Colombian-born French designer currently kicking Balenciaga into the long grass vis-à-vis experimentation, did startling things in his winter collection with leather peplums. I'm not saying they were all positive things. One poor model looked as though she'd accidentally ended up with Mick Jaggers's lips attached to her pelvis. But yes, they made her waist look tiny. The Duchess of Cambridge's fashion hits and misses There are negatives with peplums, not that you'll read about them much at the moment. They can look 1. fussy 2. Dynasty meets Dallas meets someone off EastEnders 3. hideous. I can say this unequivocally because this is exactly how the peplums I tried on for this picture looked. The expensive ones looked ridiculous, the cheap ones looked cheap. The bright pink high street peplumed skirt that was meant to be a dead ringer for Jason Wu's gorgeous silk one ended up looking like something from the pound shop. Maybe you had to be tall? Perhaps the peplum worked best when it was attached to a top rather than to a skirt or a pair of trousers? We were about to call it a day, when this turned up: soft, floppy, both attributes hitherto outlawed but somehow great in this combination. Frankly, I don't think this twosome would work nearly so well without a peplum, and that's the ultimate test on the Coco-meter (psalm no 1 from the Book of Chanel: always remove one accessory before you leave the house). If it looks better without, go without. If it's better with, make this one a peplum.