The strangest thing has been happening to me: it's absolutely pissing down with rain outside, I mean, it's raining cats & dogs (and we've got a dog living with us - with the cat - yes, Jackson has come to visit while our friends are in Sicily, and our cat is SO not happy about it), and for someone who lives to swim, outdoors, in warm weather, letting go of summer is always hard.
But this year, I don't know what's come over me, but I am so into fashion! I don't mean I'm so fashionable, per se, I just mean, I'm excited about the style I see out there on the streets. It feels like London is in the centre of some kind of incredible creative renaissance, like Paris in the 20s, and I can't recall a time in my life when I've seen so many looks that I like. At any given time, I've found that I've just adopted what was available to fit somehow in my vague, style form that I was shaping since childhood. At times, like in 1997/98, I had to resort to sourcing fabrics and finding a dressmaker to make my clothes, because I just didn't like anything available in retail. But this year: it's like fashion is the new rock and roll. It's like designers are to the Noughties as celebrity chefs were to the Nineties.
It's like fashion is, all of a sudden, sexy.
I've been thinking about this for days - and I haven't even been part of my first London Fashion Week yet - and then I saw a similar thought on the HuffPost. I mean, when I set out to do this blog, way back in March, I had expected to do a series on 'fashion rants'. You know what I mean: those looks that the Industry foists upon us, and which we reject, by voting with our feet. Like the disaster that happened with baby doll dresses a year or so ago (the ones that made even the most anorexic girl look pregnant. The ones that did so not fly off the shelves: they had to be pulled instead).
So I did post: on harem pants. But sure enough, they've disappeared.
And instead: what? WHAT can you point to this season that you wouldn't wear on your dead body? Seriously: are there any A/W trends out there that you really, really hate? To the point on ranting about? It's like the Industry and us normal girls are finally on the same page.
Anyway, I was in Joseph yesterday and was laughing as two tall, pretty blonde women in their maybe 40s were trying on super high heels. One said to the other: 'I look drunk! I'm falling backwards! I am so a flats girl.' But they were having fun. This year is so about fun. And that's where I've discovered Phillip Lim, and am wondering where he's been all my life. Couldn't you just see his sequin smoking jacket over this girl on the street's leggings with zips up the side (a look I've been seeing a lot: so cool, AND practical) and with those lovely black & blue suede shoes?
I had to leave the wound in on her foot, not airbrush it out in photoshop. After all: it's a small price to pay for being so chic, don't you think?
p.s. THANK YOU to the lustrous (& wise) Pearl, of Fashion Pearls of Wisdom, who spotted the harlequin bag as belonging to Miu Miu.