A vague selection of despicable photographs from the most recent catwalk for the shop. More will appear once the photographer sees fit!
The clothes however (...oh that damned Diane Von F, I unearth to you my soul) demand AT THE VERY LEAST a few minutes silence. Hoards of fuzzy Moncler and crazy Moschino naturally, however, a £2,650 Dries Van Noten Kimono jacket was mournfully coveted by each woman who had the privilege of residing in the same room as the masterpiece. Sadly, the Kimono was not involved in any of my ensembles, although, I can't complain. It was truly the most successful store collection to date.
I've secured a Joseph silver dress to wear for a family summer wedding, it was tailored to fit my obscure excuse for a figure, so it seems only polite to purchase, non?
My fingers had to be prised away from the wide brimmed Susanne Bettley hat. Tears were shed, Champagne glasses were smashed in vain. Alas, if my intended trip to revisit Milan becomes a reality, I may have no choice but to steal it in the divine hope of emulating a shred of Italian chic. Hah, I couldn't see a thing in that hat. The snooty demeanor is actually a look of horror on my part, in the hope that no buyers on the front row had thrust their manicured heels far enough on the runway to trip me up. I found the D + G collection surprisingly weak, I just don't get that weird screen printing. But there was a cute Chanel-esque boucle' tweed jacket.
A vulgar attempt of searching for my personal sketching style. It's bizarrely macabre, mirrors my subconscious well, even if I may say so myself. A scary, jumbled mess.
Bon chance.
