I popped out for coffee this afternoon and was somewhat dwarfed by the giant waifs ordering skinny-soya-mocha-fresh-air-lattes, which is an oddity in itself as I'm used to being the giant at 5'9''. I ordered my skinny-decaf-americano, threw in a Millionaires Shortbread for good measure, and went on my short, non-waif, merry way.
On Friday I saw Boris open London Fashion Week, in only the way Boris can, and this evening I made it to my one and only show of the week - Todd Lynn.
I love watching the anticipation build as people wait on the glorified school benches, film cameras and microphones descending on the famous as those not-so-famous jostle to see who is being interviewed. The catwalk cover is drawn back, the lights dip, the beat begins and the bright lights lead the way for the first model to stride out.
Todd's Spring/Summer 2012 collection was light and beautifully draped, bustles and silk rustled alongside laddered knitted dresses, sharp tailoring and the odd dash of leather.
As always, the Louboutins were sky high. The silk cornflower blue dress flowed dreamily and the lines on the tailored bustle cream jacket were sharp yet soft enough for SS/12.
I do find the fashion world fascinating - those who are there to be seen on the front row, those who loiter outside in the hope that they will be photographed by The Sartorialist or Grazia, those who don't want to be seen and those who dress to make a statement that will never be known.
Post show, we grabbed a glass of fizz on Tom's Terrace and amused ourselves by people watching - the suits, the students, the models, the designers, the cogs behind the show. And then little ol' me. I can almost, without doubt, guarantee that I was the only one there wearing Hobbs...albeit on-trend in polka dots...and going home for Mr M's marvellous homemade chicken pie!