When it comes to how we dress, there’s a connecting thread that runs between us and our mums, says journalist Sarah Bailey.

My mum’s wardrobe has always held a special allure for me. I remember when I was about 15, she had a teal-blue shawl-collar blouse that I ‘needed’ to pair with my black glazed-cotton peg-waisted trousers to complete the swashbuckling Adam and the Ants look that I had been daydreaming about. There were no camera phones back then, so I am afraid I don’t have an image that will allow you to judge whether I achieved my New Romantic fashion goals. However, I can recall everything about that blouse – the dreamy colour and the luxurious touch of the fabric; also the glow of pride I felt that my mum had such a beautiful piece in her wardrobe.

There’s something so meaningful about the feeling for fashion and style that we inherit from our mothers (after teen years spent rebelling against it, of course!). It’s that sartorial expression of kinship, whether conscious or not, that you see in shots of Gwyneth Paltrow and Blythe Danner, say, sharing a Hamptons garden-party moment, both wearing breezy, linen sundresses. Or, when I see my friends, the dressmaker Ninivah Khomo and her daughter, travel editor and writer Delilah Khomo, out on the town together, both wearing feminine fit-and-flare silhouettes worthy of Tennessee Williams’ heroines. When I picture them in my mind’s eye, I see two beautiful women from different generations, looking immaculately chic. But I also see something else: a connection that’s all about love.

For The White Company’s spring shoot, Dutch model Marlijn Hoek shared the lens with her mother, Margaret, a cardiac nurse and potter. “My mother’s style, both in clothing and in life, had a significant impact on me,” says Marlijn. “She taught me the importance of simplicity and functionality in how we dress and live – to enjoy the small and important things that meet us in life; also to invest in high-quality clothing items to enjoy forever and be conscious of sustainability. Her minimalistic approach to life has influenced my preference for a calm and clean environment.” She adds: “Our personal styles are different at the moment. I tend towards a more casual-mixed-with-elegant-and-relaxed style, while my mom is now leaning more towards classic comfy. Occasionally, we share clothes if the occasion allows – a nice trench coat or an oversized cashmere jumper.”

Ah, the wisdom of buying well. Fashion PR Alex Carello regulaly borrows from the vast archive of fabulous pieces amassed by her mother (a lawyer), over the last few decades. “You could spend a day there and find Valentino boutique jackets, brands that don’t even exist anymore and special bespoke pieces that she had made,” says Alex, while confessing that she can’t help but cringe when she thinks of her teenage years when she would steal from her mum’s collection of heels to go to parties, dismissing the other treasures as “boring”. “I think as you grow up your eye becomes more trained to what is beautiful and well made. My appreciation has definitely grown with age,” she says, with a smile.

But I do love the fact that intergenerational fashion inspiration can flow both ways. Alex often wears her mother’s “endless array of amazing jackets; but whereas she might have worn the whole look, the jacket and the skirt, very matching, I will break it up and wear the jacket with jeans, or put a belt around it, and wear it in unexpected ways. But then she will quite quickly ask for those pieces back, because she feels like she can wear them again!” As the mother of two daughters, Alex says there is also a particular pleasure in thinking that she might pass on these tailored classics to her own girls one day. “I’m intending on keeping all of those pieces that have stood the test of time, because I expect them to do so for another 20 years or more,” she says.

The connective thread that runs between fashion and families is not solely about mothers and daughters, of course. When I interviewed the actress Lily Collins last year, she was dressed (well, more like cocooned) in a giant patchwork hand-knitted cardigan. This, she told me, was her late grandmother’s handiwork, also I wasn’t the first journalist to have admired it or, indeed, offered to buy it off her back (she’s not selling, by the way). Lily’s cardigan confession was just a tiny moment in our conversation, but it gave me enormous insight into her character and the comfort she draws from family values.

I was lucky to have two family fashion muses growing up. My mum and her sister, Margaret, both looked like 1960s movie stars. My mum was the exact likeness of Mia Farrow (down to the gamin pixie cut), while my aunt was more of a blonde Elizabeth Taylor. To this day, they represent the two different sides of my style personality (my mum is me on my more neat, tailored, modernist days, whereas I feel like my aunt when I dress with bold exuberance).

My beautiful aunt died too young, but she is always on my mind and, if ever I share a picture of myself wearing a particularly jazzy ensemble, her daughter will send me a message noting that I am looking ‘very Margaret’. That’s the thing about the clothes and style, that we inherit and that we love. These are the threads and connections that remind us about what matters to us, what gives us comfort and joy, and how we want to show up in the world. It’s exactly the thing that Marlijn’s mum taught her: “To enjoy the small and important things that meet us in life.”

Sarah Bailey worked at “Harper’s Bazaar” – on both sides of the Atlantic – for nearly a decade. A former Editor-in-Chief of “Red”, “Porter” and “ELLE UK”, she is currently International Editor-At-Large for “Vogue Greece”.