Puffa manTuesday, February 19 2013
My second day at London Fashion Week had me gallivanting left right andcenterwith my cyber-turned-real friend Margaret.After a beauty-packed morning spent behind the scenes at Vivienne Westwood, perving on all the exquisite models getting their face painted in MAC primary colours and their nails theatrically airbrushed by Rock Beauty London (more on that soon), we barely had time to catch a glimpse of the Dame herself giving her girls the final go-ahead, before we were off again, cameras at the ready, to our next rendez-vous of the day. That would be Mary Katrantzou for Marg and Topshop Unique for me.
From one gallery space to the next. Indeed, in case you hadn’t noticed, the overriding trend in London this week is not so much to be found on the catwalk, but rather is the catwalk. Or the catwalk’s home, that is. The Saatchi Gallery, the Tate Modern, the ICA and – of course – the city’s established fashquarters, Somerset House, are some of the many contemporary art establishments to have thrown open their doors to both emerging talent and industry heavyweights this season. Is it not gratifying to see two industries with so much in common finally burring the hatchet and coming together to offer fashion revelers a taste of cultural symbiosis? Yes, is the answer, it really is.
So back to me, at The Tanks; Living up to show etiquette, I came clad in larger-than-life SS13 Unique:a voluminous, Ghesquière-worthy cocoon top, which received a lot of bewildered stares from exhibition goers andSundaystrollers. The styling was perhaps what confused them. You see, I opted-out of traditional futurism (although the holographic touch was glowing hard in that direction), and went instead for the hopefully less obvious 60s twist, brought back to life with white pumps and denim flares. You can call me Puffa man (as did one of the small toddlers running around). High five to high-street high fashion!