You’ve gotta love a fashion week, especially London. You get all sorts of peacocks out there…yes even in the rain, parading around in the hope of getting papped by the zillion and one photographers. It’s a little like watching a feeding frenzy of piranhas. Often the most bizarre (and one might have thought ‘fashion foward’) peacocks are spurned, even though they have walked around the circuit of Somerset House’s evil cobbled stones at least 3 times in vertiginous heels in the hope of getting their 2 seconds of fame.
When the shout goes up that someone has been deemed to be worth immortalizing on the digital stage, there’s a clattering of cameras and a whirring of zoom lenses. As elbows are jostled and tempers fray, photographers and bloggers alike try to catch anything from the tapered pants rolled up the de-rigeur two turn ups, to the pile of bracelets tastefully wrapped ‘just-so’ around a delicate arm, which is naturally also toting an ‘IT’ bag, whilst trying to keep that oversized coat shrugged in the correct insouciant manner over the shoulders.
I had fun this fashion week playing the game of fashion peacock vs fashion pro…let’s see if you can decide who is who…
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