The party began even before the shows had finished. In fact, the party took to the runway at Meadham Kirchhoff. Front row, watching a riot of Courtney Love lookey-likey cancanning dancers and tweeny, deeley-bopper-bedecked ballerinas, US Vogue editor Anna Wintour, aka Nuclear Wintour, the most powerful woman in fashion and the inspiration behind The Devil Wears Prada, sat stoney faced. But surely no flippertigibbet model would dare cross the path of She Who Must Be Obeyed. Well, no one told one model, who lifted her skirt and flashed her knickers at the Ice Queen. Did she melt? You’ll have to watch YouTube to find out.
And so, as the womenswear shows end at London Fashion Week, I’m taking my high-heeled self off for a moment of barefoot downtime, before taking my plane to Milan for fashion week, Italian style. I’ll send you my round-up of the London trends to trot and the ones to drop direct from the first-class lounge at Heathrow tomorrow. Until then, sleep tight.
This is Fashion Dahling, reporting from fashion’s front line, Somerset House, London WC2.
