So im sure you've all seen it on the news, if not, in the metro, on Twitter, or facebook. Poor Nina, in heels that had so-called "sizing problems" and going arse over tit on the catwalk.
In actual fact its a miracle more girls didn't go, the shoes were that bad. Burberry model Charlotte was taped in to hers, with liners, heel grips and pop socks and was still coming out of them, but it wasn't a sizing issue. Honestly, the shoes just weren't any good. Ridiculously high, incredibly unsupportive (like most stilettos) but there just simply was not enough room in the base for the girls feet to stay in. And even though Nina carried on like a trooper, and came backstage to applause, its her career that will suffer, not Christopher Baileys.
Friday, 24 September 2010
Monday, 20 September 2010
Fashion Week, one of the most glamorous, exciting, sensational events in the calendar, a week to wear your finery, see the finest clothes, and revel in all things fine. Or so they would have you believe…
Over the years as a lowly dresser with a press pass, I’ve seen a few shockers. I’ve been told to rip certain designers clothes to get the badly organised change done in time, seen stylists cut and catch girls skin trying to jam them into clothes that surely wouldn’t fit children, and held the most slender of girls hands while they tell me how they need to lose weight. Some of the shit you see is scary, some just plain funny. Good ol’ Hillary Alexander, who seems to run EVERYWHERE dashing up the catwalk right after the models to grab a word with the designer before she flits of to the next show always gets a giggle; a dear friend, in our very first season, accidently tripping up Bruno Basso and nearly sending him flying into a rail of his own clothes; putting a skirt on upside-down at Louise Goldin. But despite the inevitable drama and probable exploitation, I still love every second, and this season is turning out to be no different, with fuck ups and trip ups all round.
An elegant suite at Claridges. A beautifully immaculate collection. Cups of tea in fine china (see fashion food).
It was never going to work. First of all, Fizz, a 10-month-old French bulldog, developed a fear of doors and refused to go onto the runway at all. So Armani was brought in, a rather stouter and wheezy 4yr old, though he still had a lovely temperament and did the walk no problems. Then on the way out of the second successful show, another pooch had decided it actually quite liked it there, and wanted to claim Claridges’ doormat as its own territory… which the majority of us then proceeded to step in. As my mother always says, never work with children or animals.
Following on the fashion food theme, I popped into the embankment galleries at Somerset House to see what was on offer here. I found a glorious selection of meringues, pastries and cakes, all laid out in absolute perfection, clearly never having being touched. Damn shame, looked amazing.
Check back here tomorrow to see Burberry’s bid to tempt us to eat…
This seasons Mulberry show was held at Claridges, an immaculate location, for immaculate clothes. I walked around with my mouth open to and from the loo. To sustain the giantess models supporting their heavily fringed ginger wigs (everyone will be carrot topped next season…) were croissants, as it was an earlyish start, and tea and coffee in suitably delicate teacups and saucers. Later there were the obligatory Pret sarnies floating about, but feeling blessed to be in the presence of such grandeur in the first place I didn’t fancy being cheeky enough to ask…
And then later, onto Richard Nicholl, and my absolutely favourite fashion food moment of the week so far. Held at the old Eurostar terminal, it was a bit nippy, but luckily there was plenty of sushi and water and salad to go round. Later, a certain coveted green and white box appeared, creating a flurry of excitement, and there it was; a model with a Krispy Kreme. Go on girl.
House of Holland – a reasonable ‘trendy’ affair, all the fash-pack turn out for this totally maje show. So a suitably pretentious (yet I must say tasty) selection of backstage grub. The food from ‘Raw Chi’ was indeed, as the name suggests, all raw, from rehydrated mushrooms filled with pesto to a fat free, sugar free, gluten free, vegan uncooked, pretty much all cocoa chocolate cake. Fuck knows what’s left to go in it, but it wasn’t too bad, and needless to say the fat free-ness went down well with the backstage lot. Hilarious moment when the lady serving mentioned the cactus-and-aloe-vera-shots were good for wrinkles and 3 nearby hair and make up peoples jumped on them.
Forget the latest designers, Topshop sponsorship and who’s in the front row, what you really wanna know about fashion week is what’s out there to munch. The low down on the fashion packs’ pack lunch, models that actually eat, and which designers put on the best spread. From the inevitable Pret buffet to the early morning champagne, watch this space for the foodie fashion update.
And so, not content with joining Starbucks in the conquest of every bloody corner in London town, the Pret sandwich buffet is becoming a fixture at fashion week, and unsurprisingly, at the Sustainable Fashion show in Clarence House, St James’ Palace today, the sandwiches were in abundance. Which sucks for me, as they don’t do a single one without mayonnaise. This was however made up for with the inclusion of tasty flapjack bites and brownie pieces, along with an array of sainsburys basic fruit. (probably about as sustainable as the contents of the Primark bag, containing flesh coloured knickers and the such, that we had to collect from the front gate, all the while feeling like we may as well be carrying a burning copy of “Green is the New Black’ through the onlookers.)
So, due to the wealth of mayo, and as a girl can’t live on simply flapjacks bites and bananas, the necessary quarter-pounder with cheese meal was purchased at Victoria Station. Which I then persisted in eating on the way home, being that-girl-on-the-train, inevitably to the woe of my fellow passengers. And that was day 1 of fashion week in food.
Friday, 17 September 2010
So its that joyful time of year again. The leaves are falling, summer is leaving, the kids are back at school, and Fashion Week is upon us. The whiff of hairspray and pretension are surrounding Somerset House as we move forward in the never ending cyclical circus that is the industry we all know and love. But don't despair. As ever, Glossy is here to provide that oh-so-needed slice of sarcasm that, alongside the champagne brunches and aftershow parties, will help the week pass all the quicker. Watch this virtual space for our take on S/S 2011.