’99 smash Notting Hill is known for many things. Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts‘ chemistry, for one. The iconic line, ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her’, for another. Above all, though, one character – in all his unapologetic, slightly-unhinged glory – reigns supreme: Spike.

We first meet Spike – the roommate of Will (Grant) – in the first few minutes of the film, when he asks Will’s advice on what tee who should wear for an upcoming date with a lady named Jeannine. From that moment onward, we witness Spike dressed in a marvellous and undeniably-eclectic array of looks. All of which would make the average viewer gawk.

Spike’s fashion was ultimately looked down upon at the time, with the character arguably being dismissed as a mere kooky deadbeat with a few screws loose.

Fast forward 21 years to the present day, as many of us enter week 4 of self-isolation, and it’s safe to say that our daily fashions could also be regarded by the wider population as kooky deadbeat couture.

You may get what I’m insinuating, but it bears stating in black and white – when it comes to self-isolation fashion, no one beats Spike from Notting Hill.

His dress sense, in my eyes, has become bored pandemic goals – he was simply ahead of his time.

And I’m calling it – in 2020, Spike’s fashion is legendary, with garments that could be sported in both New York Fashion Week and E-girl TikToks.

There is many-a-reason why I hereby announce Spike as the poster child of COVID-19 fashion.

His unabashed horniness is something that can absolutely be understood by quarantined single folk across the globe.

Spike is the CEO of relatability.

His T-shirts also happen to mimic what I’ve been saying to myself in the mirror every night…

…and the risky texts I’ve been tempted to send any man I’ve had remote intimacy with in the past 5 years (after 6 G&Ts and 4 hours on House Party).

His fashion will inevitably come to symbolise many of our online shopping misfortunes, as we receive another international parcel and realise, yet again, that the sizing is completely fucking wrong.

Still, out of sheer laziness, we will do nothing about it and wear the ill-fitting garment for a 7-day couch bender as we eat nothing but mayonnaise and the salt from our tears.

Spike’s garments are also practical, versatile and ready for whatever tomfoolery our bored asses decide to do in iso.

(Side note: this is me in line at Berghain:)

Anyhoo, Spike from Notting Hill deserves a renaissance. There. I said it.

In 2020, I’m just a boy in quarantine, sitting in front of a fashionable king, asking him to style us.

Image: Netflix / Notting Hill