Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Welleh wan tu


Aah dahlings! Mwah to you all from London Fashion Week and the Spring Collection of Nathan Jenden, former CD for DVF and more famously, Events Queen's brother-in-law. One has so little time between visiting the job centre, playing badminton and baking cakes, but one just had to attend this 'eminently wearable' show, as the bloggerati described it. I know being wearable isn't that high on the list of 'things to be' at your average haute couture showing, but judging by the ooh/aaah level, there was a lot in this collection that EQ would quite happily have run off with. I hadn't realised though, just how much of a cattle market these events were. As soon as the last tribal house beat faded out and our erstwhile designer had popped his head out the back for some love, the crowd(TM) made a crazed dash for the exits and the next showing of megabucks flimflammery across town. What a crowd though, every possible pret-a-porter cliche was there in full effect. Skinny jeaned, big scarved fashion students with sticky-uppy hair, wannabe - zero models and fawning clothes fans hoping to touch the hem of DVF's frock as she swished by. Sadly for them, DVF wasn't actually wearing any form of hem, but was instead working a hideous pair of burnt orange, leopard print leggings. Tres fashionable but so much harder to surreptitiously fondle. After a mwah frenzy backstage, we headed off to a local and one too many bottles of Chilean plonk.

After this action packed day, you'd think a rest would be in order, but no, it was off to the Manchester Massive for the weekend, via a fleeting pitstop in the 'Pool. Good to se Le Sonje so soon after her departure for Copers and what better way to celebrate our reunion, than with a night of African Soul rebellion. The Liverpool Philharmonic Hall has a sort of dilapidated seventies kitsch feel to it which conjured up disturbing flashbacks of the Bulawayo Philharmonic Hall and smoking dope in the rafters with friend Helmut, just before he went on to do his slightly erratic trumpet solo. As Loved One and I had spent most of the day driving, we struggled to maintain interest in any of the performances, least of all the Khalahari Surfers who hadn't received the memo that Neslon had been set free a while ago and actually, things were progressing quite a bit in SA so cheer up and play a real tune.

No rest for the pregnant though and we were up with the larks and off to Altrincham and the first of many familial stopovers. Lovely to see y'all again, I really think we need to try stretch these visits over at least four days, we're visiting for two now y'know.

W