David Mullane pulls a precious relic from his bag, a ghost of style past that resonates like a ringing bell with everyone around the circular table.

Mullane holds his fabric treasure aloft. It is a black wrap-over jacket from Yohji Yamamoto's defunct Gothic label that he got from The Warehouse, the groundbreaking Glasgow fashion store he helped establish in 1978.

Then, after removing the dapper green velvet jacket he arrived wearing, he tries it on, finishing the look with a pair of Cutler & Gross black sunglasses from the same period in the 1980s. As a final flourish Mullane throws one side of the jacket over his left shoulder and turns to face us: his audience.

"I remember you wearing that," exclaims stylist Kelly Cooper Barr with a laugh so infectious it persuades the other three people in the booth to join the love-in. "It's exquisite," adds June Gibson, who with her husband Jim founded the Cruise fashion stores in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Spencer Railton, a Scottish-based designer who was a key figure in the scene of the 1980s, smiles before turning his attention back to the conversation.

We're getting a bit ahead of ourselves, though. Mullane's avant-garde Yamamoto jacket won't make an appearance for at least two hours. We've got conversation, a handful of old photographs and a round of coffees to get through first. They're all here today – Mullane, Gibson, Cooper Barr and Railton – at the Rogano restaurant in Glasgow's Exchange Place to talk about fashion and style past and present.

What was fashion like in the 1980s and why did Glasgow, in particular, earn such a reputation for style savvy? Does that panache continue to be part of the city, or has it lost its fight against high-street giants and mass-produced clothing?

Each of our guests is well positioned to answer these questions. They were all part of the scene in the 1980s when the city earned a reputation for style and designer label verve – a status it still trades on with marketing strategies such as Glasgow: Scotland with Style.

Mullane, as the former merchandise director of The Warehouse, was at the centre of Glasgow fashion in the 1980s. He brought labels such as Paul Smith and Ann Demeulemeester to Scotland and now, as the owner of the city's Comme Des Garcons store W2, continues to work in fashion.

Cooper Barr is a stylist based in London and Glasgow. She started working in the 1980s for music artists such as Kylie Minogue and her label mates at record label PWL, and was a regular client of The Warehouse and Cruise.

Railton established his own fashion label in 1983 and was immediately stocked in upmarket boutique Cruise. He too continues to work in the industry from his home in Glasgow, producing one-off bespoke pieces.

The final member of our roundtable group, Gibson and her husband Jim were responsible for helping change the way many people dressed, particularly in Glasgow where Cruise's mix of high-end designer and commercial clothing appealed to a range of hip customers.

Mullane, keen to get the conversation started, pulls out a pile of old photographs. He flicks through them one by one: "This is the 10th anniversary of The Warehouse, this is 1988. This one is 1990 – it's probably the most famous show we did, on the set of the Mahabharata [director Peter Brook's nine-hour theatrical adaptation of the Sanskrit epic of the same name], in the Tramway."

The black and white pictures immediately cause a stir. The Warehouse closed in 1994 so these images are a reminder of the past for everyone. "The people who got involved in fashion in Glasgow in the 1980s, so many of them are now big names in TV, modelling, or singers," offers Gibson.

"Sharleen Spiteri was a model for me. There was a great amount of energy, creativity and entrepren-eurial activity."

Immediately, a contentious subject comes up: globalisation. Gibson, in particular, feels passionate that manufacturing capabilities in the UK have been lost to the detriment of small-scale fashion designers.

"I think it's a different ball game now," she says. "You couldn't do it now the way we did it in the 1980s and part of this whole problem is the lack of UK manufacture.

"Back then Spencer could probably source fabrics, it was easy to do, you could produce small runs, right here, right now. This kind of capability is less and less."

Railton follows up the point: "If someone now was to go straight out of art school to a shop at a similar level [as Cruise] with their work, the way I did, they wouldn't be able to get there."

Mullane, though, is less convinced. Through his menswear shop he meets lots of young, eager fans of fashion. "I don't get this conversation because I think the whole thing is cyclical," he says.

"When I started buying in 1971, I was a menswear buyer, and we all wore the same clothes as our dads. Through the 1980s fashion grew and grew and grew, and then the bubble burst. Then it comes back round to what I see: young people using Glasgow in the way we did. I see it starting again."

The 1980s, it's fair to say, weren't known for being particularly fashionable. Although the skinny jeans and bright patterns that epitomised the era might be back in fashion once again, some of its more avant-garde styles (New Romantic for one) are often parodied more than celebrated. Yet in the same decade Glasgow's scene was thriving, with boutiques popping up across the city and interest in little-known designer brands growing.

Mullane and Gibson both remember workmen coming into their shops on a Friday evening looking for something to wear for the weekend. "I can remember one customer would come in on a Friday and he used to ask for a couple of bags because his hands were so dirty," says Mullane. "He would go along the rails with a bag on each hand taking out clothes and asking if they would fit him."

So what do they think made Glasgow such a stylish city? Cooper Barr, who grew up in Edinburgh, thinks she knows. "As soon as I came to Glasgow I felt more at home because people weren't afraid to spend more on their outfits – they weren't afraid to look good every day. I don't think it was the social norm though, but there was a scene. It wasn't just the privileged or wealthy, there was everyone from struggling students to part-time workers."

Gibson agrees. "There was a lot going on as well to make it appear cool," she says. "Women were going out to work more and earning money. There was some very intricate movements going on politically, economically and socially."

Certainly, in the 1980s and early 1990s Glasgow saw a boom in cultural activity. Shops such as The Warehouse got involved in theatre, putting on fashion shows at the Tramway, while club nights in the city would be an excuse to get out the dressing-up box.

Railton remembers some of his own outfits: "When I was younger I used to dress up a lot." Cooper Barr continues: "He would come out in turbans and gold lamé suits, glitter on his face, but it was fun.

He was on all the guest lists – you had to have Spencer at your party otherwise it would have been a duller event."

Do they think that kind of creativity still exists? There are mixed opinions. Cooper Barr thinks commercialism has taken over. "We were putting on these amazing shows and events. Now it's about: 'How can we get more people in the shop? How can we get more hits on Twitter?'"

Mullane nods in agreement but says he still sees that creative buzz, though it's in the city's arts scene now. "The artists are the biggest group of customers I've got now."

Gibson believes the money-making power of large designer brands had a detrimental impact on the whole industry in the 1990s.

"We had the large machinery of marketing people who got behind the larger brands – Prada, Gucci, whoever – and then everyone was designer label-led and everyone wanted the designer names in their shops. It changed overnight from everyone being happy having a myriad of unknown and emerging designers to wanting that top thing."

Attentions turn to our location: Rogano was the scene of many nights out and witness to more than a few extravagant outfits.

"We came here a lot," adds Gibson. "It was definitely a Friday-night place. Sometimes we [their outfits] looked half-mad, but I miss that now – people don't do that so much any more." "It's harder to stand out today," adds Mullane.

The group agrees that while high-street shops have made fashion more democratic, they have also reduced the impact of individual style. Railton sums up the point: "It is harder to be truly individual today because you can buy into any look: almost anything is possible."

Just as he says that Mullane turns to open his bag, and pulls out that black Yamamoto jacket. n