I don't mind admitting I have antisocial tendencies. I don't think it's at all unusual in my age group (50+). I mean if we've lived a little then we've probably seen an awful lot, which means there's not a great deal left to tickle us with. You might bear that in mind when I tell you
coach handbags outlet I tootled off to the West
coach outlet End for the Vogue Fashion's Night Out last Thursday (September 6). It's an annual shopping event that takes place in various cities across the world, with the supposed intention of turning the shopping experience into something exciting. "Go and have a look," said the editor "and see what you think."
Like most fashion events FNO operates on two levels – the Fashion Insider and the Fashion Tourist. The Insider events are all 'invitation only' and you have to be on Someone Somewhere's list to get through the door. This avoids the necessity of joining the endless queues of Fashion Tourists snaking up and down and around and around Bond Street because if you're 'big' in fashion you have neither the time nor the inclination to stand about when you could be doing something that looks far more important. Courtesy of the Guardian I had two such invitations and here's what I did.
The W London is usually the last place you'd find me at 5pm on a weekday but they were holding private screenings of Breakfast at Tiffany's, Richard Press's excellent film on Bill Cunningham (New York Times photographer), and Ultrasuede: In search of Halston. I did my growing up in the 70s so of course I love Halston, and Studio 54, and decadence. I suffered a spot of confusion in W, mainly because I was in unfamiliar territory
coach factory outlet online specifically designed to challenge short-sighted, middle-aged people with astigmatism: everything is mirrored and - double horrors - the loos are down a mirrored corridor too. Also the cocktail bar is way too high for vertically challenged individuals and the bar stools are impossible for the same reason. Once I'd navigated the hall of mirrors and got
louis vuitton outlet online a glass of champagne safely in my hand (it's alright, the sun was over the yard arm somewhere in the world) I found I'd got a showing of the Halston film all to myself. A whole private cinema just for me! If I'm ever rich and famous this will be the way I watch ALL my films.
www.louisvuittonpursebag.com It was, by the way, a strangely chaotic film which
coach purses outlet narrowly missed nailing Halston's genius, but the grainy Studio 54 footage was a divine reminder of an insanely glamorous fashion era.
After that it was a quick scooch across to Chanel
coach outlet store online on Bond Street for a presentation of five classic Chanel outfits from the current collection to celebrate the arrival of a new book, Vogue on… Coco Chanel by Bronwyn Cosgrave. Here's another confession – Chanel terrifies me. With its effortless chic and monumental price tags it's bloody intimidating, not to mention the formidable (if not actual) presence of Karl Lagerfeld, and that was without Gog and Magog on the door. Actually, it was the size of the two doormen that triggered another spot of confusion – I joined the queue. I had a
coach outlet online nice
Coach Factory Online chat with a young Polish designer (ex-Central St Martins), I watched the rich and famous come out of Tiffany next door, and I waited. The Polish
coach outlet online designer was scouted and
coach bags outlet photographed by a model agency and I waited. I watched possibly the worst attempt I've ever seen at a pick-up
Louis Vuitton Purses and I waited. I was admiring the man-in-a-skirt when the nice Polish designer suggested I might be in the wrong queue seeing as I had an invitation and everything. He was right. I shuffled up to Gog and Magog, got whisked through, handed a peach Bellini and plonked on the second row in the salon upstairs, which is when I suddenly became acutely and uncomfortably aware that like any good Guardianista I was wearing Birkenstocks. Ah well – there was a lot of walking to do.
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