Image /Steve Wood
“‘There was that old bloke I told you about once before.’
‘Oh, this wrinkly old bloke who comes every year. He looks like Freddie Kruger and is always desperately trying to say hi to all the models in his leather shirt, leather trousers, mink scarf and cowboy hat. There he was, sitting in the Hotel Costes, drinking on his own, trying to coerce some young model into sitting with him, and I just wanted to go home.'”
[Lydia the Model to the Anonymous Designer in Fashion Babylon.]
I have a habit of reading and re-reading trashy books constantly. Last week I was halfway through Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Nobel Prize winning 100 Years of Solitude when I saw Fashion Babylon lying on my bookshelf. I couldn’t stop myself. It’s a particularly low-rent anonymous insider’s account of what it’s like to be an upcoming designer in London. Most of what they talk about is sensationalised, some of the names are omitted or changed, but by and large it seems to be a fairly accurate overview of the industry as a whole.
This is my third time reading it, my first since I’ve been to the international fashion weeks. I just saw that passage about the leather clad gentleman and I realised who they were talking about. Funny how that happens. It’s like watching The Simpsons when you’re a little kid then watching it as an adult. Oh the innuendos.
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