Reverse peacocking

I guess by now we've all read Suzy's slightly confusing article on the spectacle of fashion week? No? Where have you been this past fortnight? Well you can find her artfully balanced whine here if you still need to read it (and if you haven't maxed out your allowed NYTimes views yet).

While on principle I dislike any kind of lumping together of peoples, by implying that all us digital types peacock around outside the shows in our colourful finery (I mean look at me clutching onto that fence for dear life at the sheer exuberance of my outfit – it's a miracle I didn't crack the camera lens with my own fabulousness), I too am also kind of over a lot of the fashion week hoo-ha. But that's for me. I don't give a fuck if other people want to get dressed to the nines in Meadham Kirchhoff glitter flares or texture-tastic Mary Katrantzou prints and swan around the Tuileries. It's just not my aesthetic this week. The idea that professional people only dress one way is pretty outdated, depressing, and kind of pathetic really. I mean if Susie can write considered collection reports (which go into a lot more detail than anything on Style.com or the majority of the New York Times crits) and still fit in the five minutes before each show to be snapped by Tommy stepping out of a cab, what's the problem?

Saying all that, here is what I wore in London on Saturday. Blaaaaaaaaaack. Wouldn't Suzy be proud?

Wearing scarf by All Saints, top and bag by Ann Demeulemeester, jacket by Thom Krom, trousers by Topman, shoes by Raf Simons, brooch by Walter Van Beirendonck, gloves by Brora.

Duck