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| On the catwalk at London Fashion Weekend |
The catwalk was chock full of neon stilettos, graphic
prints and feathery up-dos. And I was there at Somerset House, soaking in all
the new trends of London Fashion Weekend.
The wings of the historic mansion were converted into
designer stores – Helene Berman, Kat Maconie, Michael van Der Ham, Alejandro
Ingelmo. The West Wing became a shopaholic’s heaven with The Shoe Room entirely
dedicated to heels of every style and color. Feather overcoats, white leather
dresses, beaded headbands – they were all there, and for the drop-in-the-bucket
£100, they could all be yours.
As soon
as I was accepted into the Honors Semester in London program, I started
researching exciting spring events, and when I heard that London Fashion Week
would be right around the corner – just a 10-minute bus ride – from our flats,
I knew what one of my first purchases would be. What I had not expected was the
shopping component. I didn’t actually try anything on – afraid that if I did
I’d somehow convince myself that it couldn’t come off without going into a
shopping bag. But I did touch, admire and meet some of the designers. It was
almost more than I could do to leave one particular ostrich feather belt and a gold-beaded evening clutch. And,
of course, with sponsors like Canon, Diet Coke, Elizabeth Arden, Kinder Bueno, Elle Magazine and Müller Light, there
were plenty of fun samples to be had as we made our rounds.
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| In line with the models! |
Diet Coke offered not only free cans
of the soft drink but also the chance to pose in a photo booth. Most of the
people lined up were in large groups, but as my friend, Ariana, and I had
separate catwalk times, I queued by myself. I must not have been paying
attention to the people ahead of me taking photos because when it was my turn I
was shocked to realize that a young man was beside me. “Who are you?” I asked
before I could stop myself.
“The hot hunk you’re posing with,”
the photographer said as she clicked.
I must have looked surprised because
the guy actually asked if I were okay – as he draped his arm over me for the
photograph.
My confusion must have been complete
because the photographer took another picture. And before I knew it they were
posting it to my Facebook page under the caption: #dietcokehunk. The comments
from my friends on the picture were endless and merciless.
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| With the hunk! |
Luckily,
I was unaware of the extent of the situation (ie. I didn’t know the caption)
until I returned to my flat, so I was free to enjoy the fashion show in
ignorant bliss. I secured tickets for the finale trend fashion show of London
Fashion Weekend. The show lasted about 45 minutes but seemed to last 10, as I
feasted my eyes on block prints, clunky jewelry and fantastic headbands
resembling feather headdresses. At one point during the Urban Lifestyle
showcase, a model strutted down the catwalk alongside a Boris Bike – clunky
blue bikes commissioned by the mayor and now available free of charge for the
first 30 minutes all over London. If the model had perched on the seat, it
might have made for a more incredible show, but considering her sky-high
platform shoes, it might have resulted in a trip to the hospital.
After the
models cleared the runway, all the young ladies who’d been dying in the
audience made a quick recovery and an even quicker dash to the catwalk. Every
girl has to have her moment on the catwalk with cameras flashing. And as we
made our way slowly off the runway and back onto the London streets, clutching
our show programs and envisioning sequined trench coats and bright blazers, I
couldn’t help wishing – just for a moment – that neon platforms and jeweled
turbans were worn in everyday life.
