It’s a funny old week of fashion business, with catwalks spinning around the cities of the globe quicker than you can say Tom Ford or Victoria Beckham. Tottering over in heels, the droves of fashionistas land in our capital on a mission to show, tell and meet their favourite designer, brand or a la mode idol. Many hell bent on being papped by those with a snappy photography habit before sipping a cocktail or two with equally passionate trend-followers.
In reality though, it’s enough to make you feel weak, at more than just the knees. Not enough hot meals to go round, endless walking/standing in stilts and often dressed in the least comfortable attire – in some vane (or maybe vain) attempt to be noticed.
And then there’s the sweeping wave of FOMO too. Top of the shops is always going to be Top Shop closely followed by Burberry as the hottest ticket in (show) town. Elbowing in to get a first glimpse at those styles, faces, trends, images… what’s in and what’s out… who’s in the frow?
Before long the city empties out and the colourful creatures fly on, while I’m left wondering if this frenzy of fashion is a moment of weakness or simply a week of passionate pester-power to fuel our next (fashion) purchase?