I pull my little black dress over a pair of organic narrow jeans from Muji and add my shiny black brogues from Churches. I am feeling good, its a lovely day and I’m going to London Fashion Week. Bring it on, fashion people, I’m ready for you.
I get off the bus (shouldn’t I have a car, or at least a cab?) and encounter a six foot beauty wearing a dress which looks likes its made out of paper clips, she turns round and it seems she also has a beard!! She is accompanied by someone who looks like a cross between the Joker from Batman and Tweedledum (or is it tweedledee?) I am un-phased and make my way through the crowd.
The beautiful people have gathered outside the catwalk tent, many are at least seven feet tall due to the excruciatingly high shoes they are wearing. They are also very very thin and very very young. I am beginning to feel a little less comfortable with my sensible shoes and understated outfit. Several girls look like they have just walked off the set of Dynasty and some of the boys wouldn’t look out of place in an Oscar Wilde play. So far so good, its all quite fascinating and I remind myself that I was once one of those young fashionistas, whose sole aim in life was to dress to impress.
I meet up with Amanda and we make our way to view the Orla Kiely collection. On the way we spot an interesting footwear collection. Amanda asks to take a photograph for the day job. The very young American girl in charge of the collection says ‘no’. To which Amanda curtly informs her that ‘we are press.’ The girls looks about 12 and is clearly very scared. Good, it seems we have a little Anna Wintour in us after all!
We move through room after room of clothes that we quite simply don’t get and begin to wonder if we are missing the point and once again ask the question ‘is it our age?’
We arrive at Orla Kiely and breathe a sigh of relief. This is more like it, beautifully designed clothes, quirky yet wearable and not just for 20 somethings.
We wander round the rest of the show and despair at the lack of anything suitable for anyone over 30, who doesn’t want to look like Joan Collins. Joan is in fact attending the show and while we think she looks great for her age, we simply don’t get the whole 80’s revival.
Over the rest of the weekend I scour the papers and the internet for fashion week news and apart from the Margaret Howell, Betty jackson, Nicole Farhi and Ghost collections, (who all, apart from Ghost are designed by older women) I simply cant find anything else that excites me. Is it because I have lost the fashion plot and turned into a mumsy middleaged women who doesn’t have a clue? Or is it because designers really only target a very very small minority of the population?
If you live in London (preferably Dalston), work in fashion or the media and spend vast amounts of money in either Top Shop or East End designer shops, then maybe its all relevant and exciting. Or maybe not, I live minutes from Dalston and love Top Shop and the East End, but London Fashion Week still leaves me cold!
Is it just me, am I one step away from a beige tracksuit? Or is it because I have so many other things in my life that are simply much more interesting!
