With the very last of Paris Fashion Week dribbling to a close today I am on a serious fashion week come down. I feel like the Bieber Feavers when they realised Selena Gomez was in the picture, ie not good.
So in my sad fashion week post I am not going to do any of the following, give write ups and reviews of my time at fashion week (I have already done that, you can read that here) or display any street style pictures, though I probably will show you a video of Burberry AW13 because I am literally obsessing to the point where I'm trying to find Christopher Bailey's email address so I can thank him for such a breath taking show.
(My letter to Christopher Bailey)
No, you can instead expect my usual hilarity and quirks when describing the industry, lucky you is all I have to say about that.
When I was younger my mum never wanted me to be any of the following things, a policewoman, a tory or a whore and unfortunately recently I have realised I am the latter. I came to realise this at the Michael Van Der Ham show at LFW.
Being me, myself and Irene I don't get great big fancy LFW invitations pouring through my letter box, much to my dismay as I check the post at least 3-4 times a day in the run up to fashion week. I therefore have to be what I like to call a Fashion Week Whore.
This is the process whereby I have to literally lose all traces of dignity to live fashion week to it's fullest. I have to sell my soul in order to get myself into shows. Here is how I became (and how you can become) a style slut at fashion week.
(I've got these girls all wrong, all that time I thought they were sleeping with Hugh for the celebrity and really all they were after was a ticket to the Burberry AW13 show)
1. The older the better
Most girls use older men to access their gold mine or get a free bunny costume. I use mine to get into Michael Van Der Ham shows. Follow an important looking older gentlemen around and all of a sudden you're his young floozy (not literally but that's what people think.) Floozy or no floozy I saw myself some good shows thanks to Grandad Fashion.
(Sharpen those elbows)
2. Join the non ticket queue
Yep there is such a thing. A long trail of anxious looking bloggers who haven't quite got their look right and stick out as a non-ticketer. The bouncers try and squeeze you in if there is any space once everyone has taken their seats. You're best to get there early cause then you'll be at the front of the queue and have access to the bouncers so you can attempt to flirt your way into entry (I told you, you have to sell your soul!) Never ever stand in the ticket queue without a ticket, getting turned away from this is fashion suicide.
(Just know either of the girls sitting next to her and you're in)
3. Make a buddy
Make friends with someone who is likely to be accepted into shows. This can be any of the following calibre:
-Someone overtly dressed, I'm talking sci-fi style, the press will bow at their presence and therefore people will want them at their shows and of course they will then say 'oh but I can't be without my Martha Thursday' and in you go to Ashish.
-Someone with connections, one of my favourite London friends literally knows everyone, it's like an episode of Cheers, she could walk through fashion week and have half the people wave at her. This means she usually knows someone on the list which is good enough for the bouncers apparently.
(Think Anna Dello Russo every time)
4. Or dress overtly yourself
I'm not brave enough yet but you wanna conquer Somerset House? You gotta get down to the haberdashery and pompom your way to success.
5. Act like you're meant to be there
In my experience being obnoxious enough to actually say 'don't you know who I am?' actually works. You act like you are meant to be on that list with the excuse 'my invite is lost in the post' and they tend to be apologetic and promise to seat you as soon as they can. Though not at Fashion Scout, Portia on the door is a no shit bitch and she will rip your heart out.
(Hero, sunglasses in the rain)
Aside these things there are other ways to make yourself look more fashiony than you are, which frankly I need as my uni life consists of a H&M jumper a day keeps the overdraft away.
-Wearing sunglasses on a daily bases, even in February when even Doris Day can't make the sunshine.
-Not eating in public, I have to moonlight as a human being at fashion week as during the day I am an alien who survives on air.
-Being on the phone, if you're taking calls at fashion week then clearly you must have the busiest career girl at Elle magazine.
Reading back over this I realise I am a sad sad person, but I don't really care because I went to fashion week even if it did cost me my dignity. Lowest point? Attempting to use a last season press pass, I might as well have handed them a dead kitten.
