LFW: Hot. Like a Hot Iceberg
Okay, so Topshop were not fucking about. We were met at the door of the Topshop space with a tray of champagne and a foyer full of It-Girls with names you wish you didn’t know were parading their Topshop skinny jeans. They also had a Topshop café, which was giving out things that sounded pretty fancy.
The show opened with a kind of jungle remix of "Creep" by TLC. Good start. I was also encouraged by the lack of Elizabeth Taylor-inspired metallic print sportswear, which had been the premise of the last collection. Immediately, this season felt more focused and complete, showing heavy khaki parkas and long wool military coats in rich burgundy and grays that didn't look over-designed. The “baseball caps meet fedoras” promised on the handout thankfully turned out more Shao Yen than Ricky Martin. Low-slung kilts were slit open at the front and paired with thick knits.
There were a couple of party dresses that were pretty commercial, gold sequins and backless shiwizz. But Topshop know their audience, so who can blame them. Accessories were equally unadventurous—expensive-looking leather bags and patent oil-slick stiletto boots with military accents and rubber platforms and more stuff, but this sentence is too long already and, really, I just don’t care.
The soundtrack moved from TLC to M.I.A. and finally onto Azealia Banks' "212" which has been possibly the most played runway song this fashion week and I doubt anyone is begrudging her that. Make-up was like natural, if natural has been up all night with an 8-ball, which is not at all meant as an insult. The models looked hot, aggressive, a little bit sweaty, and hot in the desirable sense too. Hair was hair. It was just normal hair. Look at the pictures, FFS.
Highs included walking past Anna Wintour TWICE and affirming that, given her height, I would win in a fight. Fashion-wise, the coats were pretty outstanding—a baseball jacket with short zippered sleeves was highly covetable and the long wool jackets were sexy in a Scary-Spice-meets-the-Queen kind of way.
Lows included accidentally making eye contact with Philip Green and now having a perpetual stomach ache. I also watched Nicola Roberts being introduced to Azealia Banks in possibly the most stilted and awkward conversation I’ve witnessed since I got caught swapping plate colors at Yo Sushi. I also overheard this: “Oh my god... That fucking girl looks so. Fucking. Hot. Like a hot iceberg! Let’s street-style her! How does my camera work?”
Vibe: Scary Spice meets the Queen is in.
TEXT: BERTIE BRANDES
PHOTOS: DANIELLA MAIORANO
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