I’ve hit what’s known as The Fashion Wall. It’s just like the runner’s wall; you feel like you just can’t take it any more, you’re being seduced by the idea of giving up, your limbs ache, doubt is telling you that you can’t do it, you’ll never amount to anything and you might as well go and work in Tesco. I ran into the wall in the press room listening to a girl with a really annoying voice trying to get a refund off someone on the other end of her smartphone that kept breaking up. There was another really bitchy, try-hard boy telling his hags all about some celeb he met last night, and some other wench who looked like Shoreditch had thrown up on her jumped the queue and took the last pathetically small macaroon. We’re writers, not models LFW… we like to eat.
You’re probably wondering why I work in fashion, because right now I sound like I hate it. And right now I do, but I wasn’t clever enough for law and I was too clever for travel and tourism, so here I am.
First show today was at Vauxhall Fashion Scout, which is a venue I love far more than the main showspace at Somerset House. It’s so refined and stylish and the management there are really great; I heard a girl on the press bus on day one describe herself as having ‘fashion anxiety’. For those of you who’ve never experienced it you’ll think that’s a twatish thing to say, but if you have, you’ll understand. Anyway, my point is that VFS is so well managed that there’s no ‘fashion anxiety’. It’s just a lovely calm environment and showcases some of the more interesting designers that are breaking through.
Inbar Spector was my first stop of the day and boy did that wake me up. Candy coloured metallic, intricate lattice cutouts and mounds of fluffy underskirt worn over skirts. This was mixed with formal chalk stripped ruching and what I’m going to describe as rhinestone facedresses as opposed to headdresses, adding a touch of oriental mystery to an otherwise super-pop 80s sweetshop, if the 80s were in the future.
Mark Fast was next at the main showspace in Somerset House. Regretfully I left the tranquillity of the VFS press room to get back in the scrum. And what a scrum it was. There was someone terribly famous with two enormous bodyguards sitting opposite me, surrounded by photographers. I spent most of the show trying to figure out who it was before giving up and shamefully asking the girl next to me. She didn’t know either so we asked the boy in front of us. He looked at us with what I believe to be apoplexy before informing us (very grudgingly) that it was Kanye West, and then giggling to his mates. Now obviously I know who Kanye West is. Sort of.
Osman raised the tone again because Kanye, as pretty as he is, rather distracted this ADD writer from the fashion at Mark Fast. I remember navy blue, knit, beads and lovely scooped backs, but other than that I’m at a bit of a loss. Osman’s models all had the very slightest hint of a secret smile on their faces, which was lovely and there was some really incredible brocade in vibrant metallic on three quarter length trousers. Gold collars and capes that sloped over the shoulder to the elbow and across the chest like mushrooms. Hems were higher at the front than the back and that orange/red terracotta, olive green and gold made an appearance again. Oh and I loved the soundtrack which was The Melody of a Fallen Tree by Windsor At The Derby. It was strong but extremely feminine, which is a combination I adore, and it made me like fashion again. Just for a minute. Osman, thank you. The rest of you… fash-off.
Vanessa Austin Locke