London Fashion Week: Highlights From Day 3

Temperley’s London homecoming show at the British Museum, which surely won ‘Venue of the Week’

On Day 3, I basically only had three thoughts which played in my mind on a loop at various points during the day: 1) I am so tired/hungry/thirsty/exhausted; 2) thank God for our shiny Mercedes; 3) I can’t quite believe I’m here/these locations are incredible.

It’s true, Fashion Week is a very glamorous affair. All marvellous couture, shiny supermodels, thumping soundtracks,Vogue editors, paparazzi, theatrical productions and fabulous soirees. But when you’re doing it as Liberty London Girl and I were – covering every single on-schedule show, presentation, event and party between us – this means a hardcore schedule of 8am starts and midnight finishes, with back-to-back shows and barely a moment to spare in between.

Billowing milk, sage and buttercup yellow silks at Richard Nicholl

Which leads me to Thought 1. Due to the above schedule, supper – where at all possible – usually took the form of one of us blowing off a show to make a very necessary, and very overdressed pit stop to Starbucks for copious amounts of caffeine and whatever passed as food. Hence Thought 2, and why our Mercedes (and our lively driver, Dan) was such a godsend – it meant we could scoff coffee while uploading photos in the back of the car between shows, wear our 5 inch heels without a moment’s thought (I have huge respect for the girls who managed to do this for the entire week without the privilege of having a driver), make it to almost every show (though even with the car we still managed to miss Topshop Unique altogether, thanks to what seemed like every road in London being shut for roadworks, so who knows how anyone else made it on time) and safely home again (where we otherwise may have fallen asleep in a gutter somewhere along the way).

Between show essentials: The LFW Daily, Twitter, and a Mulberry foxy gingerbread (which was lunch)

Our shiny chariot for the week

Yet please don’t let me give you the impression that Fashion Week is attended begrudgingly: quite the opposite in fact. Because, gruelling schedules aside, there is nothing quite like the thrill of Fashion Week: seeing one’s icons in fashion and journalism in the flesh, mere inches away; the supreme people-watching opportunities the week presents; and the moment when the lights dim, the music starts, and the first model stomps out in beautiful couture – moveable art that heralds in a whole new season.

And so to Thought 3. There were certain shows, particularly the bigger names later in the week, who managed such coups of location (if such a thing can exist) that I had to pinch myself to realise where I was, and for what purpose. Mulberry’s enchanted forest in the ballroom at Claridges was a brilliant start to the day, but it only got better from there. we went to Nicole Farhi in the Royal Opera House, Antonio Berardi in the magnificent Draper’s Hall in the city, and the one that took the cake (proverbial obviously – you won’t find much cake at Fashion Week), Temperley in the British Museum (which sent actual shivers up my spine with the beauty of it all). This was Cinderella’s Ball at it’s finest!

Now, if only someone could arrange a show in Buckingham Palace next year…

Antonio Berardi’s show in the majestic Draper’s Hall (where part of The Kings Speech was filmed)

Hot pink and tomato red at Osman, confirming my cravings for vibrant rosy colours for Spring

What would be your dream Fashion Week show/location?

Love, Miss B xx

London Fashion Week: Highlights From Day 2

Jackie J.S. Lee’s softly beautiful salon show

…And once again I find myself beginning a post with an apology for the tardiness (after all, Day 2 was now a full 5 days ago). The truth is, between 100+ shows, presentations and events, I thought it best to mull over each one before pronouncing which were my favourites.

Compared to the madness of Days 3-5, Day 2 was still a state of relative calm. Amidst a slew of shows (not naming any names) that had me tiring of the same aesthetic that seems to keep floating about at London Fashion Week - that hard, edgy look that no longer seems creative, and it neither flattering, nor what women crave to wear in the morning – there were some particular highlights that had me craving a new aesthetic of my own.

Jackie J.S. Lee’s tiny salon show was neither flashy nor obvious, yet it is still lingering at the back of my mind as one of the most beautifully crafted collections of the week. The supreme beauty of her calm, controlled mastery of both knitwear and leather (in shades of dove grey and soft caramel) seemed to confirm my own recent cravings for a slightly crisper, cleaner silhouetter. Similarly, Jonathan Saunder’s fantastical show (in the most dramatic location) confirmed why he’s the master of clever cuts and colour blocking – every editor we met following the show agreed it was one of the standout shows of the week.

Appropriately for the drizzly London morning we awoke to, Charles Anastase began the day with an homage to Paris in the rain. Set to the sounds of a thunderstorm and Scott Walker’s ’It’s Raining Today’, his usual Parisian intellectual lolitas strolled out in a palette of muted blush knits and charcoal chiffon with a halo of frizzy rain-hair.

Jaeger confirmed mustard and tweedy tailoring as one of the dominant trends of the week. I was particularly fond of these mustard silk pants – to be worn with platform ankle boots on a dreary day. (You can also spot Scott Schumman and Garance in the background – it seemed that every where I went, they appeared beside me!)

We managed to steal 45 minutes to dash to Wahacca – the best Mexican in London - for a proper lunch (a Fashion Week miracle!) before Issa’s disco extravaganza, which had us all bopping in our seats.

It’s always enormously fun to be invited backstage before a show. Here, we got a sneak peek at the blingtastic nanna-chic look before the House of Holland show

I’m not sure whether it was the location (a vast hall in a disused train station, filled with great oversized lanterns which glowed like a sea of moons against the silver floors), or the garments which seemed to usher in a completley fresh aesthetic, but Jonathan Saunder’s show was one I will never forget.

So tell me lovelies, do you have any favourite moments that you’ve seen of Fashion Week so far?

Love, Miss B xx

P.S. Day 3 highlights to follow tomorrow

London Fashion Week: Mulberry AW ’11

Let me be clear that there are very few things that could incite me to get out of bed at 6am (after just 3 hours sleep), into a pair of heels and out the door on a rainy Sunday morning. But for Mulberry, I will happily do almost anything – I’m unashamedly a huge Emma Hill fangirl.

And so I came to be in the ballroom at Claridges yesterday morning, which had been transformed into an enchanted forest for the occasion (this had me a wee bit over-excited: as a child my mother would have to force me to put down my well-thumbed copy of Enid Blyton’s The Enchanted Forest). Amidst the birdies in the trees and the foxes in the woodland stood dandy waiters in hunting pinks and Duke of Wellington boots, serving us our morning tea (cakes which resembled the oversized toadstools in the room and country juices).

The utterly girl crush-worthy and classy front row: Olivia Palermo, Clemence Poesy, Kirtsten Dunst, Leith Clark, Gemma Arterton, Rebecca Hall, Rosamund Pike and Nicholas Hoult

Stepping through the threshold into the show venue, we entered the enchanted wood by nightfall. On the ceiling overhead, a thousand stars twinkled in the sky, while rambling foliage carpeted the walls. The sound of bird calls and Fantastic Mr Fox (another of my childhood favourites) hinted at what we were in for: a show that was firmly embedded in Mulberry’s unashamedly English heritage, with a magical twist reminiscent of nostalgic childhood references.

And this is exactly what Emma Hill delivered. This season the Mulberry girl goes for a trample through the woods. Nonchalantly tossing her uncle’s hunting garb on over her girlish clothes, she stomps off in the late afternoon breeze with her little dog, stops along the way to pay a visit to Fantastic Mr Fox (borrowing his tweedy refinery for good measure), watches the robins and the finches tweeting in the branches above, peeks at the magical happenings inside a ring of toadstools, and rushes home over the dried leaves as the stars come out to light the night sky.*

And just for good measure, here’s the sartorial equivalent of the sugar-hit we’ve all been waiting for – the iconic Mulberry accessories, naturally.

Tillies, Taylors and Bayswaters, oh my!

Love, Miss B xx

*I’m 99% certain this isn’t what the show notes told me the inspiration, but this is what Mulberry does to me – whisks me back to my nostalgic childhood memories of country English girls and magical forests.