Among the thousands of famous photographs of Kate Moss, there’s one that has come to be emblematic of several things at once: a sybaritic British summer, the early noughties boho aesthetic, the dawn of festival fashion, the supermodel’s own inimitable style. She’s walking through a field at Glastonbury in 2003, wearing a pale pink tunic dress with black fringed moccasin boots, a printed silk scarf knotted around her hips and her face semi-obscured by a combination of sunglasses and a curtain of dirty-blonde hair.

“I went to get some breakfast on my own,” Moss recalls of this Glasto outing.

Jon Furniss

The look pre-dated Instagram and influencers, and yet it had the sort of impact today’s young tastemakers could scarcely dream of. Some 22 years on, now that festival wardrobes are curated with military precision and documented ad nauseam online, it’s interesting to contemplate exactly how much thought went into Kate’s oft-emulated outfit. Not a lot, it turns out.

“Planned outfits never work for me,” says Moss with a shrug. “I don’t do that.” She couldn’t have known the clothes she threw together that year would ultimately become a sort of cultural touchstone, but she did get some inkling of the stir she’d created over the course of the weekend. “I went to get some breakfast on my own, and there was one photographer,” she remembers of that morning outing in her pink dress. “It wasn’t a paparazzi-fest then.” The next day, a friend told her she’d made the papers. “We’d gone to see Chas & Dave and he told me: ‘You’re on the cover of The Sunday Times,’” she says with her signature cackle. “I was like, ‘Don’t be stupid!’”