London Fashion Week
I was privileged enough to score a ticket to LFW last minute yesterday . I had never been and to be honest I had never really thought of going. Don’t ask me why but the thought of watching skinny people while I try to sneak a Haribo out of my bag just doesn’t appeal.
But I put on my glad rags and I went. I wanted to wear something out there but….sometimes you just need to keep it simple so I went for Vintage fuchsia. Sadly it warrants a vintage coat which I didn’t have but I figured I would be ok.
There is a strange hierarchical system at LFW which I clearly don’t understand. People go in with tickets, some don’t need tickets. It’s standing , it’s seating, it’s front row. All I know is that it was fucking creating in there. The poor stick thin breastless models…how do they cope?
We say Osman who is some Turkish designer. Nice show. I like that he clearly took inspiration from my look and went with Fuchsia and Black as the base of his first few pieces. Good man. But could I wear anything. No. This was never means for anyone with breasts, hips or a butt. The skinnier you were the better the outfit looked. A tiny man popped out at the end. We clapped. It was over. I’d barely gottten comfortable.
I quickly checked the goodie bag. A tiny square of chocolate. Dark chocolate. Was this event a calorie free zone? I only leave my house to eat or drink. Maybe when we left we would find something?
But then as we came out there was ….vitamin water to warm us up? I hate that stuff.
And that’s when it became apparent. The recession has hit the fashion industry too. Not a drop of alcohol in two shows? Hmmmmm those poor fashionistas. A lot of them looked like they could do with an extra 20lbs on them. I had to do something …..So I ended up in Smollensky’s having sticky ribs and a ribeye steak and chips. It was the least I could do to help fight the curvy fight.
Oh well, tis over til next time I guess
Happy catwalking
© Chelsea Black
