Style & Design
Originally published on Thursday, 18th September 2008
Gossip: Wednesday
Nothing nice to say? Come sit by us…
Overheard
Furious smoking and simultaneously conducting a tearful phonecall outside the ON/OFF venue
Model: No you don’t understand Mummy, he said my hair extentions looked cheap and he couldn’t work with me. Have you any idea how embarrassing that is? No? Give me some fucking sympathy here! Yes I’m smoking again, that is SO not the point.
Post show gaggle
Model 1: This gold stuff is going to be murder to get off.
Model 2: Yeah, gold rush my ass. I feel like an extra off Strictly Come Dancing.
Outside a highly anticipated party, a herd of early comers waiting to go in are eyeing up a gaggle of tightly dressed, ultra hair-straightened, and high heeled girls.
Early girl 1: "Why can't we go in yet and they can?"
Early girl 2: "Hmm maybe they're competition winners"
Early girl 3: "Dunno bout that...she’s wearing Gucci shoes"
Early girl 2: "Haha I love how we assume competition winners must all be from Wigan or something."
Posh fashwanista queuing for the men's toilets at Vendome: I don't even need the loo.
Young camp thing next to her: Umm, okay…
Posh: It's my new Fashion Week technique. Straight into the toilets as soon as I'm through the door. You see, usually I wait till I'm really desperate, and then end up being snapped by some pap doing the pee-pee-dance.
Arabic princess outside Vauxhall Fashion Scout loses her bearings
AP: This is for BFC show, yes?
Door girl: No, only Vauxhall shows. Who are you seeing?
AP pulls out Jenny Packham ticket and waves it in Door girl’s face
DG: No, that’s just round the corner, see the big white tent?
AP pulls out phone and spits some furious Arabic until a tinted window Rolls pulls up and chauffeurs her the ten metres across the road.
Lost mother of four: Sorry, is this the entrance for the Natural History Museum?
Waiting fashion editor: No love, it’s the entrance to hell.
UJ loves
Bernard Chandran’s non-elitist swag: a posy of hand tied calla lilies for everyone. We snagged four. Ha.
At Stella McCartney’s show for Adidas, a couple of Japanese buyers in the front row point out the attending Olympians and their gold medals, and ask where they get their jewellery from.
UJ mocks
Rich foreign lady in the fourth row pointing out her prospective events wardrobe to a long suffering husband, “That one, that one, those shoes,” all met by patient “yes dears” until she squealed “oooh her HAIR” and he quipped, “darling, I’m not scalping a model for you, and I don’t care if it would be perfect for the Ambassador’s Ball.”
Partay
Rumour Mill
Rumours that Kings of Leon were due to do an impromptu performance at the Liberty soiree at Acne proved unfounded, though no one in attendance seemed to mind too much, thanks mainly to the free flowing gin cocktails.
Strike a Pose
The House of Holland do at the Bloomsbury Ballroom proved to be a delightful venue but, for all of its grandeur, the main room smacked of a school disco. Agyness Dean, Sophie Ellis Bextor and a pink-haired Jamie Winstone all struck poses on the dancefloor.
Blind Date Goes Home Late
Last stop of the night was Bungalow 8, of course, where Skin, Tyson Beckford and Henry Holland (yes, him again) got down to the DJ’s seriously guilty pleasures. All eyes though were on the one and only Ms Cilla Black, who was hanging out with her hairdresser Nicky Clarke and his g’friend Kelly Hoppen. As the last to leave at a sprightly 4am, the scrum of paparazzi outside all sung the theme tune to Blind Date at her as the light bulbs flashed and she slid into a waiting car. It was a lora lora laughs.
Swag Scrum
For Linda Farrow eyewear goodie bags at the Heathers’ 40 years in fashion bash at their Knightsbridge boutique.
