Fashion & Beauty

A Models Tale of London Fashion Week

Talking on the phone

Okay so London Fashion Week is like one of the worlds fashion Meccas. Five days,

To be honest as I’m from a small town, the event has often passed me by in a blur of news snippets and crazy outfits, which I’d only see if I scraped together the £3.99 for Vogue

However this year I was in London & however I find it weird to tell people I am a model (still bizzaro!). So this year the event certainly didn’t pass me by.

I have to admit I wasn’t expecting much for myself at #LFW. I’m generally a bit too short (5’8.5″ yup we count half inches now!) and a bit more athletic than the willowy catwalk models. However I got involved in some promo work and my status changed from pining passive to interactive! Bye bye pouring over the pages of Vogue!

So my LFW experience was awesome. It incorporated glamorous and erm not so glamorous elements (don’t you go thinking all us models are premadonnas!), and I think may have given me the modeling bug.

Our pre-LFW shoot meant a 5.30am start on the Thursday, where a cheeky taxi (yay, i’ve gone one further than the bus!) picked me up and took me to my overnight Travel Lodge accommodation, where the make-up artist managed skillfully to turn me from tired and drawn to fresh faced and perky!

So then it was dress time. The designer’s creation was colourfully inspiring, a nostalgic mix of childhood and high fashion. However putting it on required some artful maneuvering. So after contorting for a hairy 10 minutes I was in, dress intact. So a few patches and some funky nails later we were ready to roll. City set here we come, how did I get there? Standing in a taxi.

We arrived on time 7am to meet the photographer, and well it was raining. But we all sucked it up, gave it beans and managed to get some pretty jammie pics. The dull weather actually made a great stark contrast with the vibrant dress. Oh and we had the help of some inquisitive commuters.

The designer was so lovely, she took off her coat and gave it to me stating that it is only fair she feel my pain. But I told her I was okay, I’m a country girl, a bit of rain is nothing, we surf in the winter!

So by 9am it was a wrap, and we all headed back for a bit of well earned brekkie. I sat in Pret with my porridge and hot choc and watched the world go by like nothing had happened.

Next morning, 7.30am start. The first day of LFW and it was time for action! Hair, make-up and getting in the dress was a lot smoother, we were like a well oiled machine by then! This time the foyer of the Travel Lodge was much busier, much more public interest. This was proceeded by a sleek and sophisticated ride to Somerset house squatting in the boot of a taxi.

But from there it went a bit insane. I stepped out of the taxi and wandered along the street to the entrance where the cameras went CRAZY!!! It was the most bizarrely-brilliant out of body experience. Cameras EVERYWHERE! So we walked, talked and posed our way round the arena, and I just had to pretend like I do this all the time and it was no biggie. BUT WHAT!?

Okay so the wierdest thing is seeing yourself in pictures, and as it was LFW they went everywhere!!! BBC News, ITV, blogs, magazines, newsnight, the internet, tagged on facebook & flickr. OMG.

I’m so happy it went viral, the designers really deserve to do well. I’m mega glad they chose me to be part of what they created.

So this is my unconventional ‘non-walking’ LFW model perspective. And one great bit? Tbh no one takes any notice of the model (unless you are Cara Delevengne) so one minute you are standing having your pictures taken, next you are sat in Starbucks sipping your mocha. Unless people are really looking they just see the clothes, which I actually rather like. You can have like 2 personalities

Think I’ve got the modelling bug, I’m rather enjoying myself. I do hope some more comes my way

London Love


p.s Hats off to all that made LFW. Desingers, models, organisers, caterers, cleaners, make-up & hair artists, PR plus more than I can even imagine. Its one hell of a week.