KEY POINTS:
Like a spring lamb, I am all happy and bouncy with excitement, not because it is spring, but because it is spring and it is also Fashion Week and Fashion Week just happens to be one of those things that pushes my happy and bouncy buttons. The frocks.
The shoes. The hair. The scary fashion people in the crowd drinking little bottles of Lindauer through a straw.
So what will Fashion Week serve up to me this year? What smorgasbord of sartorial treats will I feast my eyes on over the coming week? Oooh, I am so giddy with anticipation I will need to have a little lie down, before me and my spinning head fall over, which would definitely not be a good look at Fashion Week.
I am thinking this year there will be a fashion backlash. Someone or something will definitely get a right old lashing. It could be the puffball skirt, it could be highwaisted jeans, it could be the hoodie, but something will definitely be deemed out. I feel this very strongly.
Possibly coming in from the fashion wilderness to take the place of whatever is deemed out could be the comfortable but ugly rubbery plastic shoes with holes in them that everyone loves to hate and loves to wear, Crocs.
I'm picking that Zambesi will be showing their new range of allover Crocs like lightweight rubbery plastic body armour with holes in it, before the week is over. You heard it here first.
Sunglasses, too, will be big this year. Literally. The size of dinner plates. Karen Walker, I believe, will be launching a new range of sunglasses that are, essentially, darkened fishbowls that you place over your head. Apparently your head gets really hot and you sweat like a pig, but you look immensely cool and fashionable while you're sweating. That's the price of fashion, I guess.
Hemlines will be all over the place, I'm picking. Up, down, sideways; above the knee, below the knee, is that a dress you're wearing or just a wide belt? They will be biased, unbiased, exposed, deconstructed and experimental; you name it, it will be hemmed one way or another. Unless, of course, someone decides hems are out. This one could go one of many ways, so I'm not going to say any more on the matter.
And what will be this year's new black? Interestingly, I'm picking it will be black. Only it won't be called black because black, as a word, is too oppressive for the sort of fashion we'll be seeing this year. No, it will be called 'hint of noir' or 'Satan's bottom' or something much more exotic. Yes, black will definitely be this year's new black. Unless it's vermilion, of course, because vermilion is a cool word.
And what of influences? Will the 80s influence be big again this year? Or will it be the 60s turn again? What about the 40s? We haven't done the 40s for ages, have we? And what about the 1820s? How come no one ever does that? What have you got against the 1820s, eh, you fashion gurus?
Then, of course, there is the contentious matter of the models. You can't have a fashion week anywhere in the world, so it seems, without the question being asked: are the models too thin? Personally, I think they're all genetic freaks so who is to say how thin is too thin when you're dealing with mutants?
No, what I'm more concerned about is the question of whether we can do anything to cheer them up. They always look so sad and bored as they galumph up and down the catwalk. Is it because the designers think that if they smile they will distract attention from the clothes, or are models just naturally sad because they know they are freakish? Poor, sad wee stick things, I almost feel like jumping up there and giving them a hug but that would probably be misinterpreted. Can't they give them drugs to make them smile? Isn't taking drugs something models are good at?
Ah, Fashion Week. So much style and glamour in one city for such a short time.
Reputations will be built and/or tarnished, possibly all in the course of one night, someone will be deemed in and someone will be consigned to the bin marked passe, there will be gossip and intrigue and backstabbing and backbiting, there will be tantrums and maybe someone will spit Lindauer at someone else through a straw.
And then, when I've had enough of being at home, Ill probably go and watch a fashion show, just so I can send my love out to the poor, sad models.
Hug a model today, let them know we care. That's my advice for Fashion Week.