Oh. My. God.
That is my summary of my fashion week experience.
On February 18th I jumped on a train at Central station and headed down to the capital to become a slave to fashion, quite literally. I had been called upon (that's right, they called me) to work backstage. Are you free? Of course I am!
As we pulled into Kings Cross I got the usual 'London butterflies'. There was no time for rest as we headed straight for the hotel and right to work.
The next morning I could hardly contain my excitement as the alarm went off. I had waited for this day for years! I whizzed round my room like a little Tasmanian devil and flew on the tube. Now, I maybe the only human being alive that actually loves the tube, even in heels. There's another fashion week love - it's acceptable, even expected, to wear heels at all times. And peep toes in the rain? Why not?!
Registration at Somerset house was very smooth. I snatched my press pass out of the poor girls hand, and was given a London Fashion Week press bag - by Mulberry no less!
One criticism, and it is very small, is that I could not for the life of me find anything. The maps provided were confusing, and it took me about an hour to find the press room. After finding myself unwillingly sandwiched between two photographers, placing my beloved Macbook in a taped off square and shouting for the wifi password, I knew something was wrong.
Thankfully, I was finally ushered to the correct press room. A neat little section in the main tent, there were great vases of flowers and coffee on tap, as well as scones, muffins and jam. But my favourite part? The free wine! Being fuzzy-headed at 2pm sat across from Hilary Alexander definitely has its perks. Thank God I didn't open my mouth.
Now, I am a red-blooded 21-year-old female. And there was one subject that I could not keep out of my mind - freebies. Whether it be a pen or a full-blown goodie bag, I was determined to shamelessly blag as much free stuff as I could get my paws on. And I think I was pretty successful.
Sharply-dressed waiters in the foyer were handing out free Chambard cocktails garnished with raspberries. So I bagged myself a mini bottle of the stuff. Wandering into the Mac room I managed to get a press pack filled with free, full-size mac products from the new collections. Twice. I bagged many a free sharpie, as well as some left over goody bags from the front rows of some of the shows. Some would say shameless, I would say savvy. I'm still a student remember!
As we all know, Alexander McQueen passed before fashion week, and I was curious as to what the reaction would be. It was a sombre one, and everyone was keen to give dedications to the designer. In the main tent there was a wall dedicated to the late designer, where visitors could pin cards of condolences. It was a great tribute and very fitting.
Front of house, I was convinced I would spy a sea of celebs. I kept my eye out for the likes of Alexa, but saw a few faces of a different kind. Remember Sonique? She was there, still sporting the shaved head. Get on Google if you're not sure. Then there was Jodie Harsh, with the biggest hair I had ever seen. All I could think was how annoyed I would be I was sat behind her. Finally, I spied the woman off Gok’s fashion fix, American lady with short, bleached hair and a kind of cartoon face. Cannot remember her name, but she has lots of pugs. I saw that Olympic swimmer guy who did strictly come dancing. Full of stars, as you can tell.
To sum up, I had the best week I could have. Getting on that train on Thursday almost killed me, and I think I may now be clinically depressed. Roll on Spring/Summer 2011. Like, really.
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