I was in London for a grand total of five eye-opening, inspiration-seeking, fabulously-fashionable hours. I sat behind Brix Smith-Start at Aminaka Wilmont with Iris, received outfit compliments from Shini, discussed debating with Sabine, admired Jill’s colour combinations and chatted with a big group of my favourite bloggers, including Gem, Kristabel, Harriet, Winnie, Lily, Victoria and Lucy. I wanted to meet these girls more than I wanted to see the clothes, so the whole trip was worth it after 10 minutes.
But there was more! Like champagne and cupcakes at Orla Kiely, flitting past the queues at Aminaka Wilmont thanks to vitamin water and people-watching in the press lounge. If I had more time I’d have visited MAC for a make-up over and snuck into PPQ. But alas, like Cinderella in leather trousers, I ran (or rather hobbled, after a day walking about in 4in heels) for my train at 7pm.
The Fashion Week Survival Kit – Moleskin, Blackberry, tube ticket, show invite, press pass and Models Own polish in Fuzzy Peach, the colour of LFW. All housed in a Mulberry tote
Holly Fulton and Louise Gray were my two favourite collections from the exhibition
Jewellery displayed on mirrors to create thousands of light-reflecting images – stunning
Birds, branches and beautiful couture at Orla Kiely
Metallics and rainbow brights
A Lara Bohinc display, also known as I Want All Of This
Models on the runway at Aminaka Wilmont. I love that leather jacket
I promise to be more organised and make it for the duration next season!
So that was my Fashion Week. For me, fashion has always been about people, not designers. I’m more inspired by my friends, family and fellow bloggers than size 4 models strutting down the catwalk. And although there’s no denying the exhilarating atmosphere of a designer show, my heart still lies firmly with the high street, eBay, charity shops and car boot sales.
PS – It wasn’t all cocktails and canapes though (well actually, there were no cocktails and canapes to be seen – at Fashion Week! I know!) – some of the more unglamorous moments included running for my train at Leeds station screaming ‘WAIT!!’ at the conductor, sitting in the waiting room at Wakefield Kirkgate station ignoring the pointing and laughing (people at Wakefield Kirkgate really aren’t ready for leather trousers), dropping pasta salad on said leather trousers at Liverpool Street tube station (they’re wipe clean, don’t worry) and eating a sausage roll at 8.30pm on the journey home. And that was Fashion Week, darlings!