Model behaviour

As someone who has worked backstage at many a fashion show, I have worked very closely with many models.

They are, for the most part, a totally different species. The glide, they don't walk, and they can pose in a way I have never seen.

With many people telling you day after day that you are beautiful, amazing... it would be hard to keep your feet on the ground, right? Well apparently it is practically impossible.

As an intern, it is very difficult to get people to take you seriously. I mean, you're basically a glorified work experience girl, and it can be pretty difficult to get yourself heard. Especially when you're put on model duty.

I am regularly given the splendid task of chasing models round, getting them through hair and make up, getting them dressed, putting them in line up and then finale order. When I was first assigned this task, I thought it would be pretty simple. I mean, these girls are getting paid to be here, they're at work. So when you're at work you want to be professional, right? You'll listen and do what you're told, cos that's you're job right? I mean, you would never dream of just disappearing without telling anyone where you were going, right? Wrong. They did all this, and more.

I was shouted at, if looks could kill I would have died 32 times over. They would have tantrums, scream, and I would regularly have to drag them out of toilets whilst they had their hands down their throats.

I felt like I was looking after school children, like I was on the worlds worst school trip. I was constantly having to run around trying to find them, stop them smoking, tell them to get hair and make up done, and I was getting nowhere. But it was me who would have to deal with a stressed out designer who didn't have her models ready because they would refuse.

The best is when they try and claim they have the hardest job ever: "Nobody understands how difficult this is, "we work really hard" ,"I don't want to do it I'm really tired" etc etc. SerIously?! I'm doing 18 hours a day 7 days a week and you have a hard job?! The greatest quote was, "Well some of the girls aren't getting paid very much..." I'm here for FREE love. that's right, FREE. They soon went quiet after that.

There was one girl in particular, who shall remain nameless. Her sole goal seemed to be to try and make my job as difficult as possible. She would shout in my face, refuse to move, bitch about me in a foreign language, refuse to answer when I spoke to her and just generally be a huge bitch. The way I dealt with it was to have a little cry to myself in private, then, I ate a Crunchie really loudly in front of her, feeling her get more and more wound up by it, knowing she couldn't have it. After that I just refused to acknowledge her, and she soon got very confused as to where she had to be, and realised very quickly how valuable the information I had was. Any show I work on now, if I see that name in the model list a little bit of dread fills me. Thankfully, it turns out her name is very common in her country.

There are, of course, some exceptions. Firstly, all male models are a dream, and that's not just because they are male. And models. They aren't too fussed about being there which means they do exactly what needs to be done. Mostly, they're just there to earn money, so they don't get big egos and try and compete with each other like the girls. They know all they have to do is get done up and walk, and that is exactly what they do. They eat the food so you don't have to worry that they'll faint, they're polite, chatty, and have personalities.

There are many female models that are good to work with too. I ten to find that the bigger deal the show is, the better behaved the models are, cos they know they are lucky to be there. And the best way to deal with the ones that aren't, is to take to rubbish, tell them as it is, and show no emotion. Just shout demands and walk away. If they think you're soft, you're doomed.

After all, there's no room for manners in fashion.

Pointless

Now this is one subject that really gets me going. I read the news that Peaches Geldof has been dropped from Ultimo, and I had to ask - what does she do?

Peaches, along with many other girls, call themselves models, presenters, actresses etc, and turn up at every party, fashion show, club etc and claim to be style icons. And the worst bit? People believe it!

The Geldof sisters are two of the worst. They do nothing, have zero style or originality and still somehow manage to make best dressed lists! Peaches looks exactly like a million girls you see hanging around The Cut on a Monday night being all moody and 'alternative', in their fur jackets and red hair. I mean, come on!

The only one I have some kind of time for is Alexa Chung. At least she did get known by presenting. But then when was the last time she did that? She does have a fairly good dress sense, and the lucky thing gets a nod from Mulberry, but she can, like the others, look incredibly ill, and what's good about that?

I recently watched a programme on Peaches, and she came across as an extremely, spoilt, sheltered, ignorant individual who seemed to have read the handbook on being 'cool' and followed it to a tee.

The list is endless. Daisy Lowe, Zoe Kravitz, Jaime Winstone... and they hang in packs. Posing like pros and getting huge contracts and jobs without doing much for them.

I know what you're thinking - case of the green eyed monster. I'll be honest, that's probably part of it. I mean, I can't blame them. I'm sat here slugging it out over a laptop, desperately seeking internships, only to get paid pittance an hour in the hope of someone giving me an actual job. Saving for three months at a time, denying myself of any luxuries so I can buy a new bag. Meanwhile, they turn up somewhere and get paid, appear in the magazines I'm trying to get jobs at, and get bags named after them. It's not a bad life.

But would I ever swap places? I can honestly say no. Back in the day, when my mum would tell me "There's nothing better than earning money and saving it up, and then buying yourself something nice." Never did I think that statement was true, but it is! As much as it is a slog, it's at least an honest one, and requires some kind of skill and hard work. These jokers may have all the bags, clothes and shoes they could want, but by doing what? Having the right surname? No thanks.

I'll take my hard work and put it in my saved-up-for bag and work to get to the top. Or that's what I keep telling myself...

April Fool

It is April, and it is fair to say I am feeling like a first class fool.

Not that I've done anything particularly embarrassing or terrible, none more than usual anyway. But this is the month that sees my dissertation hand in, and the end of my life as I know it.

I am a final year student, and the pressure is on. Typically, I have not made it easy for myself. The two most competitive areas of work to get into are psychology and - you've guessed it - media.

One night I woke up to the realisation that after graduation I really had to find a job. Not just find one, but really I had to have one in place ASAP.

I took to absolutely hounding the internet, desperately searching for internships, jobs, work experience... anything really. I consider myself to have quite a good CV, and like a lot of people, assumed that I would find a job pretty easily.

But what I didn't think about enough was that I am wanting jobs at big places. No, not big, HUGE. I'm talking Elle, Vogue, Glamour, Cosmopolitan... magazines that are read by millions of people, lots of which will want a job there. So why on earth would they pick me?

One useful tool: Twitter. What a great invention that social networking tool is. You can follow the major mags and companies, cos anyone who's anyone has a profile. That said it isn't exactly a shortcut. I have '@replied' every major magazine editor going, all to no avail. One even started following me off their own back, which got me cruelly excited, then has thus far lead to nothing.

It does, however, bring you to companies you wouldn't have heard of, and has successfully secured me work with an up and coming fashion website. All's not lost, ey?

What I have come to learn so far in my struggle is that it is just that: a struggle. It's not easy, it will take a long time and it will be hard.

Surprisingly (or naively) I am still optimistic. I'm continuing with the @replies, emails and phone calls, and do believe that some day I will get my foot in the door and enjoy a successful career in the fashion industry, with a pug called Tubs, lots of handbags, an amazing flat and Robert Pattinson as a husband.

Okay, so maybe the last part is a bit too optimistic, but a girl can dream...

To Blog or Not to Blog

One of the biggest issues at this year’s fashion shows was bloggers.

They're the Marmite of the fashion world. You either love them or hate them. And for the most part, it's the latter.

Blogging is a new phenomenon. It used to be normal, fashion fans (much like myself), just blogging to get experience in writing, not really thinking anyone was reading. It is only recently that bloggers have really come into their own, and started appearing in front of the camera, and on other bloggers pages.

One of the most famous bloggers of late is Tavi. You only have to type 'Ta' into Google, and she's the first word to come up. A New York native, Tavi posted her fashion views on her blog, and has soon become an internet sensation. Did I mention she's 13 years old? No normal teenager, she has a look that resembles an old lady, and wears pieces by Lanvin, Marc Jacobs, and now has the pick of the bunch, with designers sending her pieces to wear and inviting her to shows.

The war officially started when Tavi was seated front row at the Dior show. She was seated directly in front of Grazia Style Director Paula Reed. That's right - a well noted fashion writer was seated behind a 13-year-old blogger. Paula tweeted (now thats another story) a photo of the back of Tavi's head, who was wearing a huge bow headpiece, with the words, “Is this what it has come to?” and the backlash began.

Fashion Editor Melanie Rickey said: “She was simply referring to the fact that a young blogger with no real fashion experience was seated in front of someone who had worked for years, and arguably earned her seat. It raised an important issue - are these people's opinions now more important?”

It's an interesting issue. Is it now more important what a quirky-dressed teenager thinks, rather than someone with a degree and experience? Is fashion something you are born with, rather than learned?

Blogger Coco's Tea Party sides with the magazines: "I do not think Tavi should have been seated in front. Paula had earned her seat, and really deserved and should be sat in front of bloggers. We have opinions, like everyone else, but we aren't qualified to be front row."

It seems bloggers are now believing their own hype. Whilst working backstage at fashion week, I turned away a very annoyed Susie Bubble from accessing the dressing rooms. I recognised her from a feature in Elle magazine, and she said to me: "Is this where we go to interview the designers?" I responded: "I'm afraid that unless you have a pass I cannot let you backstage." She looked at me with a do-you-know-who-I-am face, before reluctantly leaving with the rest of the audience.

It seems nowadays that anyone with an opinion and a computer can get themselves on the front row. And why it's great that 'normal' people are getting the attention of the fashion industry, there needs to be a line. Their opinions matter, but it is those of respected fashion writers who have worked their way to the top and earned their jobs that deserve the most time on the soapbox.

After all, where would we be if it was all left to bloggers? Looking at the ones that are most successful, we would be walking around in fur and neon colours wearing giant glasses and posing awkwardly. Now that is not a world I want to be living in.

It's All About the Right Nail Colour

As far as I'm concerned, the right colour of nail varnish can totally make you. It can add a smile, make an outfit cuter, funner, quirkier, sexier - I just love it!

I was there when the buzz started about Chanel's ‘Jade’, and I was also there when it was announced that it had sold out. I was one of the saddos who was going into Chanel boutiques and counters and hounding them, and ringing Selfridges and asking if they did mail order. The answer was no, in case you wondered. But then I rejoiced when I found a suitable, and cheaper, alternative - ‘Mint Green’ by Barry M.

It doesn't have the sheen of Chanel's own shade, but it is an almost perfect colour match. And whenever I wear it, at least one person always asks “is that Chanel?” So it's as good as the real thing!

As far as Chanel polishes go, I do hold a soft spot for them. Possibly my upmost favourite one is my ‘Blue Velvet’. It's a more interesting alternative to black, but has just as much impact. It's just very, very cool.

Great sunny shades are ‘Miami Peach’ and ‘Ming’. They are a orange and pink and brighten nails instantly. They have little specks of glitter in as well.

A great festive shade is ‘Gold Shimmer’. Its a rosy coloured gold, and looks great under the Christmas lights.

Barry M is a great brand for budget varnish that has real staying power. Their turquoise and grey are great colours. The blue is very Whitney Port, and instantly adds interest to any outfit. The grey is another alternative to black, and is very on trend for this season.

Finally, ‘Sherbet Lemon’ by Boots 17 is very cute. It's playful and I can't wait to wear it with my sandals on holiday.

Eastern Promise?

Each season there is a fashion-savvy scramble to get a front-row seat at the shows of fashion week. Whether it’s London, New York, Paris or Milan you can be guaranteed to see the biggest names both on and off the catwalk. However, there is a new event making a name for itself on the fashion calendar, and that’s Dubai Fashion Week.

Just like the other fashion weeks, Dubai dedicates seven days showcasing the next season’s collections, and is filled with glamour and style. What’s different about it is you won’t see the latest from Chanel, Gucci or Louis Vuitton, but from designers you may not recognise, such as Parvesh Jai, Aly Fawaz and Amal Murad. Dubai showcases only designers from the Middle East, which don’t get a look in at other fashion weeks.

It has been running from 2007, and this year saw London IT girls Daisy Lowe and Alice Delall pay a visit. It was held at the Godolphin Ballroom at the Dubai Emirates Towers, and much like London and Paris was packed with shows, parties and celebrities. Magazines such as Grazia and Harpers Bazaar were present, making sure their readers didn’t miss a second of the action.

Fashion Director Rohit Sabikhi has high hopes for the future of Dubai Fashion Week: “It gets better every year. It is great that we can provide local designers with a platform to showcase their talents. They can get over looked, and this is their chance.”

“We hope that it is recognised more and that it will rival those held in Paris and Milan. Fashion is just as important to people out here, and we want people to see what the Middle East has to offer.”

One of the highlights was Parvesh Jai. The duo has designed for many international labels, but it was their own creations that took the spotlight. With a doll theme running through their show, their quirky, fun designs were a breath of fresh air.

Amal Murad created a huge buzz at fashion week, shown by the huge turnout for her show. Her unique take on the traditional abayas worn by Emirate women impressed and showed what Dubai Fashion Week is all about. Her show was an injection of culture and gave some education to people like myself.

I was a little unsure of what to expect from Dubai Fashion Week, and whether it really would live up to its predecessors. I can gladly say that it did not disappoint. It is refreshing to know that you can get everything you want out of fashion week whilst experiencing some culture at the same time. It is going from strength to strength and is definitely one to watch. I for one am excited to see what comes from the spring/summer ’10 shows and will be making sure to have my seat reserved.

Subtle or Slutty?

This is a question I have asked myself a few times. I always follow the golden rule: legs or boobs, never both. This is mainly because I don't have any boobs worth speaking of, and I am generally happier when my legs are covered. But that is by the by; I am always cautious.

So comes this evening. There is, once again, a 21st birthday in need of celebrating. And the outfit that popped into my head? A navy blue playsuit, loose belt, heart print sheer tights and stacked heels. As well as a jacket - a necessity in this Newcastle weather.

All fine there apart from one problem - the playsuit is totally and completely backless. This means no bra, which as I mentioned before is no problem. But backless? That means my whole back on show, in case you weren't sure. I have dared to bare before, and did feel conscious the whole night.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Why wear it then? Mae it easier, just wear something else! But I have that age old problem of once something is stuck in my head, that's it. It's a very similar feeling to the sensation you get when you're out shopping, looking for an outfit that's a big deal, for a prom or a wedding. And you get that 'perfect' dress in your head before you leave - the cut, colour, how you'll feel when you're in it. So you give yourself the impossible task of finding that impossible outfit thus setting yourself up for inevitable failure. We've all been there, and it's not pretty. This is exactly how this feels.

So it comes to 7pm, and time to get ready. For those who think this is early, as with all birthdays, 'party time' starts when you're told, and considering tonight's kicks off at 6.30pm, , I intend on being fashionably late. Not because I am trying to be cool, as I would fail, but because if I start on the vino then I would have to be carried to bed at 9pm. Seriously.

Anyway, I did the usual: shower, moisturise, hair (which was a no brainer, considering it was in-between-washes-day and the decision to change from dark to blonde and back again has resulted in me only being able to wash it every other day, as I have fallen victim to colour fade and end up resembling a fudge. This is something beyonce and Kimberley from Girls Aloud can pull off, but me? No. So I am piling it on top of my head today after a can of dry shampoo and hoping for the best), pulled on everything including heels, and started at the suit.

Hmmmmm. Now this is tricky. From the front, we're okay. As long as it isn't cold anyway. But the back is bare. Fully out. To back or not to back? Back out? (sorry) Do I dare to bare?

In short, the answer is no. The back was surprisingly okay, definitely could get away with it. The problem was the ass. Who on earth put together a playsuit that finishes before the ass??!! either I have grown, the suit has shrunk, my ass has grown (most likely) or I went out before with my ass pout and no idea of its presence. Either way, not a good look, not by any body's standards. Definitely slutty.

So I emptied both my wardrobes, tried on everything. Twice. Weeped a little, before before settling (and I mean settling) on shiny leggings and a long black top with cream detailing on the neckline. I added a waist belt to try and make myself feel slightly thinner, before realising my hair was greasier than I thought, and weeping some more. I had no time to re-do my make up, so had to leave on the blue eyeliner from my previous outfit. It went so well with outfit number one but not so well with number two hundred and four.

So I did what anyone would do in my situation, and went out feeling totally, and utterly rubbish. I put all my faith in Mr Vodka and Mr orange juice and thankfully, they didn't let me down. Fingers crossed next week outfit recycle session is a lot more successful.