My compliments to the costumer.

Sent me on an eighteen-month shopping spree for pencil skirts, neckscarves and a beret in every colour. And pistols.

From the lacklustre seduction of the cabaret girls to the wind-up ventriloquist doll of an emcee to the immaculately groomed Nazi presence to Liza's v-bangs and bowler hat, this film epitomises the gaudy, seedy, hell-in-a-handbasket nature of 1930's Berlin. Don't believe me? Ask Helga.

High-heeled court shoes, tea dresses, lace veils, red nails and the c-c-c-curliest hair you ever saw.

As a rock bottom budget documentary of fallen socialites, this film most definitely lacked a wardrobe department. But with skirts that won't fit anymore worn upside down and blouses worn as turbans and fastened with cocktail brooches, Little Edie's make-do-and-mend determination has caused this film to become a cult influence in the fashion world.

We've all seen Frank Sinatra skipping around in his sailor suit but the dresses in this musical are unbelievable. A week after seeing this film I bought a blue taffeta ballgown from a bargain rail in the local market. To date it remains my most ridiculous film-influenced fashion purchase.

Years ago, in my early teens, I read an article in some long defunct women's glossy about Tarantino's heroines. Uma's Chanel nail-polish, slicing bob and tailored monotones absolutely made my jaw drop and through my first viewing I could concentrate on little more than taking notes on her character's style. Forget dialogue and pacing, Tarantino will forever be, for me, the master of dressing women.

Lee Holloway evolves from flat-footed, long-socked, over-grown seven year old to high-waisted, pussy-cat-bowed, saddle-wearing, worm-smushing, tomato-lobbing seductress. AMAZING.

As the film moves through the seventies, eighties, and into the late nineties, the wardrobe is era-appropriate without trying too hard or courting cliche. Holly's sailor stripes, black lace fingerless gloves and oversized trenchcoat; Marina's leopard print, cocktail dresses in lectures and omnipresent fake eyelashes; it all leaves me dry-mouthed with fashion envy. And the soundtrack's pretty stellar too.

For a study of obsessive sexuality featuring copious unconcerned, character-inappropriate nudity, this film is flawlessly styled. It took me two years of rampant dedication to track down that red beret and I'm still looking for the green velvet dress coat.