"Having completed the marathon that London Fashion Week has become, I'm surprised at how light and fluffy I felt. Having watched syrupy candy colours and ice cream tones prance down the catwalks my first thought was to bolt before I acquired a deep fashion-induced cavity but actually I bounded out of the final day with a spring in my step because, let's be honest, the clothes were basically only decoration.
On the whole, the collections were youthful, bright and energetic as was the atmosphere at many of the shows. Topshop NEWGEN designers Meadham Kirchhoff stole a good deal of the limelight and column inches of the week; it was almost as if the show warranted 'it’s behind you!' screams from the audience or a white rabbit running through the Louboutins with a fob screeching 'I'm late, I'm late...'. Intricate detailing and quirky prints momentarily drove the eye to the clothes and off the porcelain doll-like faces and silly wigs; the whimsical performance was in danger of being gimmicky and overshadowing the collection completely but when was fashion week ever about focusing on the clothes? Whether you follow the shows or not, the one thing you couldn’t have missed in the non-fashion news was that Beyonce was in town to launch the House of Dereon collection; does anyone remember what the clothes looked like? Nah, it was more about her baby bump. Parties, shows and exhibitions were going off around the city like fireworks and over the five day duration, a handful of people would discuss the clothes but all of them could tell you about Anna Wintour’s thoughts on Tom Ford, the palpable seating allocation tension, premium celeb spots and the ridiculous outfits of the wannabe 'bloggers'/ hangers-on posing outside Somerset House.
The Master of Ceremonies at London Fashion Week - Nicole Farhi - showed a beautiful, crisp and fresh collection followed by hosting an event to launch her new store off Bond Street. As the exhibiting brands differ in tone of voice, so do their events – you can enjoy an evening of loud grime and plastic cups with a streetwear brand followed quickly by an event across town with a premium brand serving Laurent Perrier and lobster bisque canapes – Nicole Farhi's was definitely the latter. Sophie Ellis Bextor, Edith Bowman, Pixie Lott and Zara Martin proudly sported the brand as they schmoozed the cream of the fashion industry crop. As someone I respect, admire and am lucky enough to call a friend, Nicole glowed with pride all evening; an understated, yet true fashion legend.
The week rounded off with men's day. The faces in the front row had changed, the music was slightly heavier and the clothes – at some shows – were more masculine. Often the men’s collections are limited to shorts and trousers but yes, skirts made a couple of appearances. Oliver Spencer got it right, he cast ‘real’ men and actually trussed them up in threads that would actually turn a woman's head.
The circus has now moved on to Milan; a fashion week largely based on the measuring of Italian brand manhood or that of their cheque book. With London renowned for its crazy fantasia style shows and Milan being all about who has the bigger budget, sadly the clothes seem to have become the victims of an industry of their own making – but selfishly, it's still just fabulous to be part of.
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