And lo, the Season was nigh. The Season of the wrist-ache, whence Vogue reacheth pages unto five thousand. The Season of the stomach-ache, whence the Daughters of Anorexia descendeth the aisle of Couture before the glassy gaze of the black ravens of Purchase. The Season of 'Fall' (which meaneth autumn) for the tired, tyrant tribe they call Fashion. If I were their Grand Visier, I should mostly be wearing this, courtesy of Monsieur Gaultier:
Alas, they haven't replied to my emails. In the meantime we flipflopped plebs mither in the drizzle, averting our eyes from the laden sale rails of Mango, whereupon sit thrity size-16 orange maxi-dresses like so much exotic fruit rotting on the vine (we bought one back in April).
Forget Oxford Street, go to Kensington (I would only advise this for a very good reason). Planning to revisit the V&A's permanent costume archive, I discovered the free New York Fashion Now! exhibition nestling within. A manageable little story of startups and celebrities, atelier classics and one-slip wonders, it provokes an interesting dialogue with the historical costumes outside. Some collections (Sean John) run crying back to mama's crack den, but others (Tess Giberson, Maggie Norris, Jean Yu, Miguel Androver) hold their own with poise and humour.
Thus, HitchcockBlonde presents her Fall 07 collection for Autumn, with a piece for every occasion. First, a Maggie Norris nineteenth-century inspired ensemble for highjinksing. The Tess Giberson slouchy jumper for a night in with The Philedelphia Story. And this perfect perfect Miguel Adrover dress. For church.