"In March 1988 the Antwerp Six applied to the British Fashion Council to stage a runway show as part of London Fashion Week’s official calendar - and were refused. They went ahead anyway and held their event at an off-site venue; it was a success and attracted many buyers but, disappointed by the response they had received from London Fashion Week, the Belgians decamped to Paris, where they were given a warmer welcome and where they have chosen to show ever since." Style City: How London Became a Fashion Capital by Robert O’Byrne
I somewhat despair of society, a feeling which is particularly acute whenever I walk through Westfield (“Europe’s biggest shopping centre” or something). Under most circumstances I would avoid the place like you do a dog with rabies, but the offices where I work are located within the complex, so I walk through the mall at least twice a day. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen it busier than today, other than on the first day of the sales. The reason the place was heaving, packed to the rafters with half of west London? A bank holiday. It’s mind-blowingly depressing. If yesterday was sit at home and gorge on trans-fat laden Easter eggs while watching mind-rotting TV day, today very much seemed to be the day to pull on a pair of elasticated-waist jeans and Crocs and waddle around Westfield buying ghastly, environment-destroying, aesthetically-dreadful consumerist tat from horrible shops, paying with money you don’t have on credit cards issued by precarious banks. I think the UK is now second only to the US in terms of a (or maybe THE) major leisure activity being shopping (and let’s not forget pit-stops at mediocre coffee shops for silos of milky latte and muffins containing 7,000 calories), as well as in terms of people defining themselves and others by material possessions. I am all about clean simplicity in everything from diet to decor to shopping habits, partly because the pared-back approach is so subversive in the more-is-never-enough culture we live in.