Thursday, 7 March 2013


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It would seem odd for me to start a blog at the latter end of a fashion week season and not at least mention it. So here's my gratuitous five-pence worth.

Until Paris, nothing had blown me away. Rihanna for RI was predictable, Topshop made me wish desperately for a donkey jacket, there was ANOTHER boring Mulberry show and I was sick to the back teeth of seeing Cara bloody Delevingne. She has me really feeling like models have lost their mystique, but hey, that's another post for another day. Chanel's global vibe was beautiful, although highlighting that they don't have a single store in Africa may have been some negative publicity they didn't need when showing such an intricate collection. And I think we should all agree to not talk about Saint Laurent for a while, eh? Haven't seen that much tack since I rode a horse. I digress.

I am usually a devout King Lagerfeld disciple. But for AW13, there is only one person I need to talk about. Crown Prince of Haute, Valentino Garavani. Or rather, Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli; the DREAM team behind my favourite collection of not just this fashion week season, but of the past few seasons. It is probably sacrilegious to say so but having never been a huge Valentino fan before - I wish they'd have taken to the helm loooong ago.

The contrasting collars aren't anything new and are quite blatantly a ploy to get Hollywood hipsters wearing them at every awards season of 2013. But they are so beautifully executed I don't even care. I never thought I'd want it to be winter after these past few months of perishing on my walk to work but the coats made me yearn for November again, just so I'd have an excuse to buy one - warm, beautiful and devilishly stylish.

Of course, the chances of me buying a Valentino fur coat are about as great as the chances of me marrying the entirety of One Direction in a mormon marriage ceremony - but my favourite thing about Valentino was how achievable it all was. Girls on the street could work this look by tweaking existing items and adding new accessories (and obviously, plaits!). I am going to attempt a Valentino look at work tomorrow. I don't have the gamine limbs or the cheekbones of the girls on the catwalk so I am fully willing to bet I may look like a dumpy Heidi auditionee lost on her way to the West End, but alas. Fashion is serious business and I am willing to take the risk of losing a fool for the chance it pays off and I look quite as divine as the (notably non-Delevingne) models.

We will see if I am yodelling or strutting in the morning. For now, I dream of a field of those winter florals.