It's London Fashion week and the company where I am consulting has reached fever pitch. Luckily I don't have to be based in the office full time and come and go without getting embroiled in 'fashion politics'. I occasionally get (understandably) withering looks from the creative types, since I thought it better just to 'opt-out' rather than try and fail in the fashion stakes.But this week sees them in all their modish glory, as they divvy up the tickets to the shows. The hierarchy is clear this is how it goes; every one scorns the bloggers, who they consider to be merely 'playing' at working, or worse, pedestrians who shouldn't be there in the first place, the juniors get the 'standing room' only seats, and the top bods get to sit, ideally of course front row, if it's not front row, they will often leave rather than suffer the ignominy of anywhere further back. And the really mean girls use this week to assert their authority and leave anyone who 'needs to know their place' trailing outside of the show spaces while they press the flesh inside. I find it all a bit cruel and ego-driven.
In a previous role, I worked with designers, who, although often quite well-known, struggled to fund their shows, I would help them to find the last £30k or so that they needed to pay for the extravaganza, some put everything on the line in the hope that it would pay dividends. We simply don't have the fashion culture of Paris, Milan or New York, being 'commercial' is almost a dirty word. Instead the designers are expected to entertain the ungrateful hoards, they have often sold the family silver and are then scorned mercilessly if they show anything that people might actually want to wear, unless of course you are already a massive name and the hottest ticket in town, then you can be as commercial as you please and everyone will say that you are marvellous.
Despite all of this, I still like to see the street style pics and get lost in the fantasy. Do you suspend your disbelief and enjoy the spectacle or are the fashion weeks something that pass you by without notice?