It's a funny old world: I am not in Paris, I am in leafy Kensington, with the cat, on an unmade white bed, playing with colour balances (there must be a million shades of white), while listening to Poppy on BBC radio 5 talking about not sleeping because there's always too much to do online, and simultaneously following Cathy Horyn's live tweet descriptions inside the Dior tent ('Inside the Musee Rodin tent, mood feels same before any Dior show. Super long runway, as for Jan couture. Blue-lit background w/chandaliers': feels like I imagine it must have been during WWII, hovering in the dark listening to the wireless).
The thing is, the sun is shining outside and as soon as I post this, I am going out into it. I have been told this week some pretty ridiculous things, and I am not claiming to be anything that I am not. I am not a fashion insider: I'm just a housewife with a camera. It is a privilege to be part of this world, and I feel like I am bearing witness to things that are at times, extraordinarily beautiful. I can't speak about Mark Fast's A/W 2011 collection with any kind of professional authority, I just know that I love it more than the last one, and the one before that. And I can't wait to see what he'll do next.
I love the way Mark Fast mixed the shapes of the models, who were curvy and plump and regular model shaped and at times, really skinny. I love that there was more cream and tan this time, (and reds, but the creamy ones really caught my heart, they were just soooo like little lambs frolicking on hillsides, all bouncy and cosy and soft), and it wasn't just knits, I love the woven stuff, too, and those great Louboutin boots, but the knits were sooooo gorgeous. And I'm only showing you some now, and later, or another day, I shall show you some more. I feel privileged that I was allowed to sit on the floor of the aisle that I like to sit at, and a lot of that is because I am a pretty nice person who gets along with others and is respectful of other people's space (it's the same backstage: there is a courtesy and respect for each other - a humanity. At one point a photographer smiled at me when I apologised for maybe being in the way, and he said something like 'there's room for all of us.'
And there is. There is room for all of us. There is room for all of us to grow, and create, and I'm not in any hurry to get in there first, or be the best, or have the most followers, twitter or otherwise, or designated visitors. I don't even care if I"m talking to myself. In fact, once I've posted this post, I think I'm gonna take the rest of the day reaaaaallll slow.