Now then. Faithful readers of Morphosis have learned to expect nothing less from me than eagle eyed, nigh on scientific fash analysis, with absolute no self-indulgent narcissism, pointless blathering or banging on about dudes who I fancy who’ll never, ever, not-even-if-hell-freezes-over fancy me back (and I must clarify, this is not through any physical fault on my side -I was a model too- but simply ‘coz they’re hmm…er, I’m sure you see’t I mean !).
Heaven knows my morals have never stooped so low that I’ve ever touch an artificial stimulant like nose candy, or Bolivian marching powder, whatever the kids call it nowadays, but the night leading to any fashion week I feel more jacked up than a Pete Doherty fan club. Store soirées, magazine shindigs, fragrance launches, underwear fêtes, glamour parties, socialite handbag festivities -of course all on the same night usually, the first of this unconventional mid-week to mid-week conference of fashion. One needs the stamina of a mountain goat. Being the sober little soldier that I am, though, I push through.
Heaven knows my morals have never stooped so low that I’ve ever touch an artificial stimulant like nose candy, or Bolivian marching powder, whatever the kids call it nowadays, but the night leading to any fashion week I feel more jacked up than a Pete Doherty fan club. Store soirées, magazine shindigs, fragrance launches, underwear fêtes, glamour parties, socialite handbag festivities -of course all on the same night usually, the first of this unconventional mid-week to mid-week conference of fashion. One needs the stamina of a mountain goat. Being the sober little soldier that I am, though, I push through.
Brit fash mag Ten + features a great report the length of a river about spring / summer 2008 menswear shows in Milan, Paris and New York with photos shot by snapper Jason Lloyd-Ewans last June and July. Maison Morphosis offers you a review.
