So now! (for the moment)

Cowboy boots are back. Sorry. David Hasselhoff, Larry Fortensky, and a million other redneck mountain men with funny names and even funnier hair have been sartorially correct all along. Don't believe us? Well, Luella showed them on the catwalk, Kylie wears a pair on the cover of The Face, Office is churning out affordable versions in a variety of colours... but then that's the trouble with trends. The fickle world of fashion is such that an item that would once have made you a laughing stock - cowboy boots being the perfect example - eventually comes full circle and is the epitome of cool.

January is the traditional time for the predictors to reveal their predictions, for newspapers and advertisers to ring in the new and 'braille the culture' as American trend-spotter Faith Popcorn likes to say. In? What about flock wallpaper, fringes, red chicory, holidaying in Auckland, Patrick Neate, sex-worker literati, tooled leather accessories, doing needlepoint, wearing slippers to dinner parties, the colour white, old-man pubs. Out? Vodka cocktails, minimalism, Sydney, make-me-a-star TV, lace, mummy lit (2001's answer to chick lit), Dave Eggers and charm bracelets, to name but a few. Going out is also over. As is, undoubtedly, using the word 'over'.

What's hot and what's not changes in a nanosecond and we know about the Next Big Thing before it happens. Thanks to the hype, we had Harry Potter fatigue before the film even came out; likewise, The Strokes' backlash started way before the band had released its first album.

Of course, it doesn't help that nowadays the whole world is effortlessly accessible. With a bit of Google-ing, we can find out what shoes are big in Tokyo, or the hot new band in Miami. And just in case we've missed a beat, fashion designers have an eye on every major street in every major capital. A gradual filtering of ideas? Forget it. In our throwaway society, where the straight-off-the-catwalk-on-to-the-public philosophy of Topshop and Hennes means an entire look lasts less than a month, there's a constant desire for the new.

'We live in a time when the turnover of stuff - clothing, electronics, bands, holiday destinations, cooking ingredients - has reached blur speed,' says Nick Barham, head of Profusion, the trend-spotting unit for advertising agency Bartle Bogle Hegarty, whose clients include Levi's and Boddingtons. 'Everything has a lifespan - usually of about a week,' he explains. 'Things replace other things quickly and often they do so without any apparent logic. So novelty is the only thing that stays desirable.' Consequently, as the new becomes old, there's pressure for the marketeers to conjure up the Next Big Thing.

Fashion is no longer just about clothes. It's about having the right mobile phone or being on the right diet - as opposed to merely owning a phone or dieting. 'The visual appearance of something is an integral part of its character,' says Barham. 'This is a time when FHM, the original lads' bible, runs a double-page spread on light fittings. Because men need lighting, too, right?'

Maybe our speed-trend obsession is to do with the British psyche - that need to knock something when it becomes too successful. Or maybe it's symptomatic of living in London. With our internationally renowned designers, stylists and art colleges, Londoners are more obsessive than most. 'In the research we do, I've found that London is considered the world's exploding point for new trends,' says Rita Clifton, of brand consultancy Interbrand. 'All the foreign designers in my office wanted to move here for that very reason.'

That's all very well, but just how do these trends start? Sometimes it's down to savvy teenagers with their restless quest for the latest thing. Sometimes it's a personality like Delia (remember cranberries and pizza stones?). Sometimes it's films. Blame Moulin Rouge for all those black-beaded chokers and fit-to-bursting bustiers. But mostly it's down to the dictators - the designers and advertisers who plot what we will like down to the smallest detail.

Advertising companies usually have their own trend-spotting unit like the one at BBH, while other industries hire the services of people like Faith Popcorn. Ms Popcorn, arguably the world's most famous spotter, advises multinationals like IBM and Pepsi, and is credited with predicting the 'cocooning' craze in the early Nineties. Trend-spotters are essentially the middleman between the underground and the overground. They travel the world, visiting clubs, bars and shops, sourcing fabrics and sensing 'the vibe'. They gather their findings, produce a trend book, and sell it for thousands. So in short, along with aggressive marketing, they have effectively eliminated the word-of-mouth tradition.

Of course, it's impossible to tell how much these professional futurologists influence or merely measure our likes and dislikes. It is, however, much, much easier to say precisely when a trend is over. The warning signs can be summed up neatly as the three Ms: the middle class, the mothers, and M&S. A trend dies instantaneously when one or all of the above pick it up.

And therein lies the problem: something fashionable attracts followers, not leaders. The drop-dead hip live in a trend-free, David Collins-designed bubble separate from the rest of us. Which is, perhaps, why it's better to be So Then -better still, So Over - than So Now. Because, remember, fashion comes full circle. The sooner something goes out of favour, the sooner it will become fashionable again. 'Last week, I saw two women in Soho, granddaughter and grandmother, I'd guess,' says Matthew Jeatt, of trend agency Promostyl, summing up the circularity perfectly. 'The granddaughter was wearing a Burberry fringed scarf, while the grandmother had on an original Burberry beanie hat - and she looked fantastic.'

But what does it all mean? Really, very little. It means that our preferences change. It's the excitement of the new, coupled with the anxiety of lagging behind. Up-to-the-minute pop-culture references? Absolutely crucial, not only if you want to make it past the first couple of hundred on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?, but also if you hope to make decent small talk at a party. We want to stay on top of things (which is why a certain celebrity magazine was genuinely peeved when we declared they were So Then). Psychologist Bhavna Jani-Negandhi also believes it boils down to a sense of wanting to belong. 'It's instinctive for people to want to feel included, to be part of a club. Very few people have the ability to put things together in a tasteful way, so trends are also a short cut to good taste.'

Enough of the analysis. What are we going to be into over the next few months? Matthew Jeatt predicts that as the world becomes more virtual, we will gravitate towards 'real' things like quality time with the family (hence, apparently, the fondue revival). Nick Barham thinks Shanghai and Mumbai will be the hot holiday destinations. Faith Popcorn predicts companies providing their stressed staff with 'nap tents', and a surge in the demand for 'mannies', ie male nannies.

My favourite prediction, however, comes from Matthew Williamson. The designer believes that the biggest trend this year will be to avoid trends. A paradox perhaps, but easy to follow nonetheless. Remember Williamson's wisdom the next time you're in Zara, weighing up the pros and cons of puffed shirts and fringed jackets.