Fashion Week is upon us, endless shows to see, webcasts to watch, tickets to wish you had. But why?
What was originally a way of getting press and buyers all in one place has spawned a massive globally desired month of cities, runways and more. We fell in love with it. We who love fashion get to immerse ourselves in something we adore. The street style, the excitement of waiting for invites, the planning of what to see.
It is almost an addiction, whether at Somerset House or as my fashion week will be, jetting between venues of the independent events, we have to be there. We have to be close to the thing that drives our passion. Its a chance to be at the heart of it all in a way we usually can’t.
But more than that it remains about two things for me, catching up with friends in the industry, lunches, teas, coffees, stolen moments with people you care about and of course the clothes.
The clothes are still everything to us disciples of thread, devotees of the best garments. Where else can we see so much, so quickly, and so easily. Its like an all you can eat buffet that lasts for a week. Our minds and hearts get stuffed, we will need the psychological equivalent of an elasticated waist while we urge ourselves on saying I can still manage another plate.
Fashion week, you are our addiction, and we have never found the cure.