London Fashion Week: Photo Diary From Across The Pond

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London Fashion Week: Photo Diary From Across The Pond
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Click through to see the details on hot up-and-coming designers, some bold street style, and the closest we’ll ever get to blogger babe Prince Pelayo.

Sarah Nicole Prickett lives and writes in Toronto. She’s the style columnist for Eye Weekly and contributes regularly to FASHION Magazine and DazedDigital.com.

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‘Ello! Here’s me at the New York, New York party – a fixture at all the big Fashion Weeks now – at some infernal club in, like, Mayfair. I picked up this dress the day I flew from this amazing vintage dealer, Cherie of Shimpton Couture. She knows I have it bad for paisley and can’t quite get over sequins, either, and when she found this she could hardly believe it.

Seems like a fairly mod dress, made in Hong Kong by some nameless label in swinging '60s London. The little leather jacket was made by my friend (and London Fashion Week roomie) Tania; her brand name is Pink Cobra. These shots were taken by Mark the Cobrasnake, duh.

The super-rad jeweller and clothier Maria Francesca Pepe held a brilliantly atmospheric presentation accompanied by spooky piano and 3D video. You can totally see a ghost in this shot! Or a model dresser, whichever.

London Fashion Week always has a million miles of knitwear, but Craig Lawrence’s stuff stands out by at least a mile more. I loved the models’ hair, powdered and plaited to match the twisted, ethereal gowns. This is how I’d want to look if I were long-haired, and also Asian.

My boy Blue Logan made a show of his work at the Swarovski store on the first evening of LFW. He brush-illustrated one whole wall in twenty minutes. Speed freak!

No fashion week displays its designers as openly or proudly as London, with its layers and layers of exhibit space at Somerset House. I especially liked the Nicholas Kirkwood nook. These dusty rose heels were made for Jean-Pierre Braganza’s SS11 show, kicking off the week nicely.

It boy, Central Saint Martens student, and understandably into-himself blogger (he is a babe) Prince Pelayo was sitting smack in front of me at the Basso & Brooke show. As if there could be any mistaking him, he had finger-painted his fame-name on his jacket. This made me smile and forget, for a second, that it was 9 effing AM.

London girls love their florals like London boys love guitars. These scorching pink blooms filled Claridge’s ballroom for the mad-packed Mulberry show.

Coolest old people ever, right?  This bird’s hair is amazing, even more electrically pink than Anna Piaggi’s is blue. I’d pay at least five dollars–no, five pounds!—for a picture of them together.

Fashion Week is an eco-friendly engine: it’s fuelled by free drinks! Bloody Marys, seen here on the balcony of Somerset House in impossibly pretty weather, saved me on more than one morning.

Ann-Sofie Back’s presentation was one of the coolest. It was very slow fashion; I mean that literally, and not in the Rachel Zoe way. She had disco show tunes with the RMP turned way down and models walking three feet per hour. Clothes were from the Margiela school of conceptualism. In this shot you can see my new favorite front-rower, the exquisite and seriously talented multimedia artist Yi Zhou.

At London Fashion Week there are more street style photographers than there are subjects. The ratio of this silly filded peacock to the number of snappers who took his blog-bait (including me, I guess) was approximately 1:1,000,000.

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