The style elite is a bit peed off, you see. Vintage used to be their thing: they derived much more kudos from sourcing a Fifties Pucci dress than from buying a new one off the peg. Then the rest of us got in on the act. Topshop spawned a vintage section, Steinberg and Tolkien took a concession in Selfridges and suddenly, every Lucy worth her Lanvin was jumping on the vintage bandwagon. And so stylists started to refer to their finds as second-hand, instead. Secondhand sounds less pretentious, as though they stumbled upon their dress in the local branch of Mencap, rather than sourcing it meticulously from Rellik (even though they did).