The great pop songs, rather than the merely good ones, are the ones that make you want to smile or dance or cry. Likewise the great style icons – the ones who will be remembered beyond their red carpet moment – are the ones who make you feel something. Marilyn Monroe does this. Beyonce does this. And Michelle Obama did this, all year. The first lady takes immense care over what she wears, but she never lets what she wears overwhelm her personality. I look at Versace on the red carpet or the catwalk and I think: that’s a nice dress, that actress/model looks hot. But I look at Michelle Obama in the bespoke Versace dress she wore to an Italy state dinner – her last – and I see more than that. I see strength in the chainmail and joy in the dazzle and inspiration in the goddess silhouette. Michelle Obama has created an image which is the jumping-off point for a huge personality. Will I miss her? Doesn’t begin to cover it, dudes.  Speak of a masculine aesthetic and Georgia O’Keeffe is likely to come up. This year was no different, thanks to a Tate retrospective and “inspired by” collection at Jigsaw, which introduced a new group of fourth-wave feminists to her work. It also reminded us why her look is one of the most referenced in fashion, particularly in this post-Céline age of genderless flavours on the catwalk and high street. It certainly reminded me why I like a black suit, loose T-shirt, tennis shoes and dropped waistline. Her approach to monochrome is a lesson to us all, but equally, the green of the stem in Dark Iris No 1 is Pantone’s colour of 2017 and mine.  I also like her work and, with a lateral perspective, I looked to that, too – giant florals at Topshop or Michael Kors, who namechecked her earlier for his spring/summer collection – when I got dressed. There are additional elements – the loose, unbuttoned shirts (very sexy for the 1920s) and the flourish of colour (a nod to her love of Mexico) and her hair, loosely scraped back and short. If that feels reductive, it’s worth thinking about the context (1920s feminism) and then applauding her for wearing trousers. Morwenna Ferrier  In every episode of Atlanta, Donald Glover’s character, Earnest, is close to collapsing under the weight of a world conspiring against him. His clothes match the in-betweenness of his life (his job, attempting to make it as a manager/PR, his stop/start relationship with his girlfriend). We see Earnest in ill-fitting suits, duo colour weather beaten T-shirts, plaid shirts, Vans and a backpack. His style may say ‘I’m prepared for anything. I’m prepared for nothing,’ but Glover pulls the look (post-normcore with a bit of Basquiat thrown in for good measure) with an effortlessness that is infectious. So perhaps it’s not about what you wear, but how you wear it. Priya Elan  Her screen time might have been over before it began, but Barb from Stranger Things cast a longstyle shadow across my style in 2016. It wasn’t difficult – she had me at the bottletop glasses, frilled blouse and slightly tatty quilted jacket. The John Hughes heroine-worthy gormless expression, strawberry blonde hair and Clearasil concealer habit only added to her case. I am a sucker for an 80s misunderstood teen and Barb hit the spot. She also fitted into the thrift store look done so well by Alessandro Michele at Gucci, and prompted a much deserved social media campaign and even a mural in LA. I like to think she’s living on through the likes of me. I am now the proud owner of several frilled blouses and a questionable blue vintage ski jacket that bears a resemblance to the one Barb wears to, um, the bitter end. Just saying. Lauren Cochrane
This was the year of Gucci, Barb from Stranger Things and a return to minimal via Georgia O’Keeffe. Here are our style icons of the past year