Paul Smith’s country club aristocrats are back for a round of cricket. Impeccably dressed in preppy casuals, Lord Smith’s
young ladies defy tasteless exposure and flashy overkill. Dressed in
deliberately unsexy clothes exuding clean, wholesome innocence these
girls are so proper that their youthful conservatism ends up communicating
Smith’s cable-knit sweaters, tailored blazers, and pin striped trousers tapering towards the ankles are exactly what an Ivy League educated chap would want the girl he brings home to mom to wear. But this is not to say Paul’s dream girls are unadventurous bores. Throw in few silk satin nighties worn under semi-sheer chiffon floral-print garden party dresses and the adorably mischievous virgin’s wardrobe is complete. Just remember not to go past second base, at least not before a dreamy country-side wedding.