Boy London is Back

When I first moved to London, my housemate Nick took me exploring around the streets of Shoreditch. On out travels, we discovered Sick, which is one of the weirdest shops I have ever seen. The lights were off, the clothes were hung from random hooks amongst framed New Kids on the Block pictures, and three classic East London goth girls were sitting in a circle with their backs to the door. Obviously, I had to go in!

The shop was crammed with what looks like a lot of customised leather and pvc, and vintage pieces - all in either black, white or washed out denim. Everything felt a little bit crusty, but in that genuine-this-has-come-out-of-an-80s-teenager's-wardrobe way. Which was nice. There was also lots and lots and...lots of BOY London T-shirts, caps, etc etc, which was a logo that I recognised but am in no way cool-enough to pretend I knew a lot about. I liked it though, it was simple, strong, effective.



I left the shop empty handed, as is always the case when I am confronted with too many things that I like (Beyond Retro, for me, is simultaneously heaven and hell). My brain gets seriously overloaded and my indecisiveness leads me straight outta there.

But the BOY logo stuck in my brain, it seemed really familiar and iconic, and over the last few weeks I've been thinking I should probably go back to the shop and get a t-shirt. In the meantime, that weird thing happened when you discover something properly for the first time, only for it suddenly to be everywhere.

Yeah, that is Chloe Sevigny, queen of everything that is cool, wearing a BOY t-shirt. Months ago. I'm obviously way behind the times on this one. Specifically, about 30 years behind the times, because 1980 was when Stephane Raynor founded his label BOY London, after years working with Malcom McClaren and generally being a super significant person in the punk/New Romantic/subsequent Blitz Kid movements. He employed Billy Idol, Chrissie Hynde hung out in the shop, and Boy George was (naturally) a kind of public face of the brand. BOY London was huge (but as I was just a vague thought at the back of my Mum's mind in 1980, I'll let myself off for not knowing quite how legendary the logo was.)

Anyway, so it transpires Stephane Raynor is the owner of SICK, which makes perfect sense, and it also transpires that BOY is having something of a massive, unavoidable resurgence. To the point where Urban Outfitters have now collaborated with Stephane and are selling the original BOY designs, in black, white and grey, in their shops and online.

So now you don't even have to live in East London to get a piece of the BOY action (har har har). I'll be stopping by the Oxford St store to have a nosy at the collaboration, and attempting to decide what to buy. My somewhat enormous hair rules out the wearing of baseball caps, I'm tempted by the subtle black-on black sweatshirt, but ultimately I think a classic tee is an essential addition to my collection.


Stephane Raynor's Myspace
http://www.myspace.com/boylondon

One of the SickGirl's personal blog
http://sickshoplife.wordpress.com/

Urban Outfitters to fulfil your need for BOY
www.urbanoutfitters.com

GL

Images: Rex, Urban Outfitters

Possibly The Greatest TV Show Of All Time

I'm on a serious emotional comedown. Yeah, I know I've written about it before, and yeah, I know it's only a TV drama, but 'This Is England 86' is one of the greatest things I have ever seen. I was screaming and crying watching the last few scenes (as well as the previous episode, which left me in shock.) Shane Meadows has captured a little bit of social and cultural history, bottled it, and left a dramatic legacy.

I am seriously going to miss these inspiring, amazing characters. Especially Lol. What a woman.





No doubt director Shane Meadows will be back soon with something equally brilliant, and I'm sure we will be seeing a lot more of Vicky McClure (Lol). Here's hoping, anyway.

GL

(First image: Dean Rogers)

Writing Round Up Part II

Completely unrelated, I just love this shot of Giles!

One of the reasons there has been a little less on here recently is that I have been pouring my creative juices (oo-er!) into a new project, Motilo.com. I can't tell you a lot about it at the moment - it's all top secret hush hush - but I can point you in the directon of the Motilo blog, which is full of juicy, fun fashion stories, some of which yours truly has been writing.

Here's a few tidbits from the site - enjoy!

Dominic Jones (of whom, I admit, I am a superfan) designs for the xx. Hell to the yes: http://magazine.motilo.com/xx-dominic-jones-love-in/

How lampshades were the main source of inspiration at LFw (seriously!) http://magazine.motilo.com/allure-fringe/

You too can look like a Fashion Editor by following this step-to-step guide: http://magazine.motilo.com/lfw-editors-uniform-2/

And the honest truth about how this LFW first-timer survived the madness that was: http://magazine.motilo.com/fashion-week-survival-guide/

So there you have it. Life is looking up at the moment, now that I am officially the full-time Fashion Junior at Large, and hopefully once normal life has resumed, I can start filling this up with more fashion related nonsense.

GL

The Mayhem is Over

In lieu of a full on LFW diary I have decided to write a short, sharp summary of the weeks happenings (which for a waffler like myself is no mean feat!)

So...in pictures and words, here is what happened over the last few days of Fashion Week.
The Matthew Williamson show was held in the middle of Battersea Power station, in a specially constructed tent. I was experiencing serious shoe envy, caused by the uber glamourous people attending, when one of the front-rowers told me they were so jealous of my DMs! Talking of front-rowers, I nearly got crushed when Cat Deeley turned up and the paps swooped in. Who knew she was still a celeb over here?!

The Matthew Williamson venue in Battersea Power Station.

Someone helicoptered out over the Thames afterwards, you know, as you do.
Topshop presented Richard Nicholl's collection 'Waterloo Sunset' fittingly, at Waterloo, and at sunset! The old building was very spooky at night, and the clothes were flipping incredible. Full of drama, 70's pleated angel wing dresses, Swarovski crystal ear cuffs and lots of sheer black and touches of PVC, which appeals to glamourous goths like myself.

All our fashionable heads reflected in the ceiling of Waterloo

One of my favourite shows of the week was Mark Fast, which was a complete fringe fest! Not so many curvy models as his last show, but his trademark knitted and crochet dresses were still out in force. Apparently the collection was inspired by the oil slick and tropical animals - not sure how I feel about designers/photographers/stylists getting inspired by natural disasters, but nevertheless the dresses were very covetable. Not to mention the mega patent snakeskin platform Louboutins - yes please!

The Erdem show was pure fashion brilliance. It was how, as a little girl, I had imagined what fashion shows were like - set in a beautiful square in Bloomsbury, under a specially created 'geodesic' dome, with fashion's glitterati waiting in anticipation.

Check out Olivia Palermo's bored expression!

The ultimate show for me was Giles. Having been lucky enough to meet Mr Deacon a few weeks ago I was so happy to be able to see his SS11 collection. We all piled in to an old factory in Farringdon, which was crumbling and extremely spooky. I squashed into the standing area with Henry Holland (!) because he didn't have a seat, and watched as the very over-excited fashion crowd took their seats. Janice Dickinson was squawking in the front row, along with weirdest 'frow' spot of the week, Kerry Katona (because she's, like, a fashion expert, obviously.)

The venue at Giles

The clothes were the pinnacle of ironic chic, including comedy, cartoon jumpers, massively OTT fringed ball gowns and boobilicious sun dresses in Refresher bar colours. Kelly Brook and Abbey Clancey walked, which sent the paps into a snapping frenzy, especially when Abbey's pregnancy-enhanced boob nearly escaped her dress. The original supermodel, Verushka, also modelled, which was a very special moment (Janice Dickinson whooped and hollered!). But for me, seeing Agyness stroll down the catwalk to open the show really did make my week. I didn't think I would ever get the chance to see that happen!

(Talking of Agyness, here is a snap that I took of her with the lovely Phoebe, daughter of Style.com critic Sarah Mower. As I got my camera out, it suddenly felt very surreal my favourite supermodel was about to pose for me - but that was just one of the weird happenings that makes LFW one of the craziest, but wonderful, experiences of my life!)


GL

(All images copyright Georgina Langford)

LFW Diaries: Day Two

My favourite day of the week so far. Getting up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday? Sure, no problem, if I have the promise of amazing shows to look forward to.

Having underestimated the ability of Tube drivers to amble along on the weekends, I arrived at Somerset House just in time for Daks, where I flung myself into the photographers section to get the best view. So much for the carefully considered outfit as I sat in a crumpled heap on the floor (!)

The 1920s/30s inspired collection could have been lifted straight off the pages of a history book - I could imagine a young Coco Chanel running around in some of their playful yet classic and sporty designs.

Daks SS11

We almost didn't make it to the next show, due to a slight venue miscalculation on my part, but we screeched in just in time to see Louise Gray's ragdoll-punks parading down the catwalk. I had about an inch of space by the photographers in which to snap away, so I spent most of the show buried in some girl's Afro trying to take the best picture. Not my finest fashion week moment.

Louise Gray SS11

Next up we hopped into a Mercedes with the Fash Ed's good friend (and all round Fashion Week legend) Brix Smith Start. At first it was a little surreal to be driving around London with someone I first knew as 'Brix off the telly' but I soon realised that her star quality comes from her infectious personality - she had me in stitches all day.

Blondes together - me and Brix

At the decidedly spooky Old Sorting Office we waited for Twenty8Twelve to start. In fact just the Fash Ed, myself and Hilary Alexander seemed to be attending at first, which set my 'assistant alarm' off - what had we missed, that everyone else was clearly at?

A lonesome Hilary Alexander checks out the goody bags...

But the venue was soon engorged with an eager crowd and a celeb studded front row. Matthew Williamson had turned out to support his former muse, next to him was Jude Law fulfilling his soon-to-be-spousal obligations, and next to him Hilary Alexander was *allegedly* flirting away merrily. But that's a legendary Fashion Editors prerogative, I suppose.

Jude getting mobbed, next to Matthew Williamson (in the turquoise sweater, naturally)

The Emilio de la Morena show was held in a car park in Soho. Yep, a car park. On the top floor, a beautiful white room had been converted into the catwalk space and where we saw an incredible collection of extremely girly full-skirted minidresses worn with awesome Charlotte Olympia neon aqua platforms. (The shoe designer was sat en famille in the front row. She is flipping gorgeous. The whole family have an alluring, well-bred, sexy aura around them. )

My pap shot of Charlotte Olympia and her family. Damn them and their beautiful hair.

Next up were the Topshop Unique and House of Holland shows, for which I could barely contain my excitement. The Topshop venue at the Eurostar terminal is incredible, full of light, with such a palpable atmosphere. There has been much talk of the incredible, psychedelic trippyness of the collection, which I did fall in love with, but I was completely obsessed with the ENORMOUS hair, rainbow glitter eyes and lacquered red lipgloss. I will never wear lip gloss again after an ex-boyfriend once stared at my lips and asked how on earth he was supposed to kiss me with all that gloop on them, but I still love it on models.

Topshop Unique SS11

But by far, my second favourite show of the whole week was House of Holland. The London It-crowd had turned out to support their pal Henry, and the show couldn't start until AgynessDeyn had been ushered in and placed in her prime front row seat. The collection was so.much.fun. 70's Jackie Girl, condensed and Henry-ified, with a healthy dose of metallic appliqued stars.

HOH SS11

(The after party wasn't bad either - upstairs in the posh bit of 93 Feet East, I was relieved to spot two fellow bloggers. We drank very weak tasting vodka and lemonades while dancing to Nick 'Grimmers' Grimshaw's DJ set, which was comprised only of 90s R&B and hip hop. Mr Holland was there being congratulated by Agyness and Pixie Geldof, and people were nearly climbing behind the bar to get their own drinks. I attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance about the fact I was dancing in the same room as my fave supermodel, not sure how well that worked out.)

On to Day Three...

(All images copyright George Langford)

Writing Round Up!

Verushka walking at Giles, with a feather boa on her head. What a legend.

In the mayhem and madness that has been the last few days, I have been unable to get my LFW diary up on the blog, but I have been writing like a mental writing person!

For a few of my posts for my new project Motilo.com, have a looksee here.

http://motilo.com/street-style-spot-lfw-cardigans/

http://motilo.com/lfw-fashion-editors-battle-wedge-petite-stiletto/

But I promise to be back with the gossip - hopefully tonight! Stay tuned!

GL

LFW Diaries: Day One

Preen's enchanting powder blues

The first day of Fashion weeks feels a little bit like Christmas, or going on holiday, or some other special event that makes you get out of bed really early with a mixture of excitement and nerves running through your veins. This is my first LFW 'proper' - no longer lurking outside the venues, but actually in the thick of it watching the new season unfold before my very eyes!

Obviously, I am the Fash Ed's shadow/photographer/note taker/taxi organiser for the week, so I have a lot to try and remember as well as a lot of amazing fashion to be inspired by! I think a common perception is that fashion week is just a big knees up for the industry, when in fact it is an extremely intense time of work, with everybody scrutinising the new collections, desperate to discover the next big thing. For well-practised journos like the Fash Ed this comes as easily as breathing, whereas for newbs such as moi, my head feels like it is going to explode with information overload.

Our first outing was a trip to the St Martins Lane Hotel for the Preen presentation, which was surprisingly calm and relaxed. The collection is astoundingly beautiful - inspired by African landscapes and Moorish architecture, I instantly saw a young Grace Kelly looking picture perfect in their structured princess line dresses and incredible sheer pleated maxi skirts.


Next up we threw ourselves into the true spirit of LFW and headed to Victoria House for a show everyone had been talking about: Jean-Pierre Braganza. Still a relative newcomer, there was a palpable sense of anticipation for this show, which was incredibly fun - slinky, sexy silk dresses with graphic photo prints, multi-rainbow eye makeup straight off the cover of a Roxy Music album and a tropical colour scheme made for a fun, appealing collection.

Jean-Pierre Braganza (or JPB as a fellow show-goer called him later on. In fashion, you're nobody until your name is abbreviated to initials only, so I guess this means he's 'arrived'!)

Later in the afternoon I found myself dispatched to the Ones to Watch show at Vauxhall Fashion Scout, where the massive queue and delayed start was getting everybody pretty grouchy. It did make me giggle when I finally got to the door, mentioned the Fash Ed's name and the PRs immediately panicked, finding a space for me in the front row - even though this has happened several times now, every time I sit there I am waiting for someone to come along and kick me out! But at the end of the day, I am reporting for Melanie's blog which gets several... thousand (!) readers a week, so it's good publicity for the designers! I'm just going to make the most of it and work flipping hard to earn my place there.

You can read my report from Ones to Watch here:

http://fashioneditoratlarge.blogspot.com/2010/09/lfw-ones-to-watch.html

Our last show of the day was Australian duo Sass and Bide. Held in the Royal Opera House (last time I went there I was wearing a velvet dress and ballet pumps with a ribbon in my hair. I was about six, however) there was an enormous crowd outside trying to get in - these ladies are popular! The circular, fabric lined room was lit by an enormous light globe which shone on the celeb-filled front row and illuminated the flipping gorgeous models. A veritable army of gazelles strode out in powerful, photo-printed pieces in rust, white and navy blue, which touches of true orange-red and some copper lamé, for good measure! The prints seemed to be based on crashing ocean waves, and the whole collection was loose, modern and extremely wearable (except, perhaps, the gathered lamé trousers, which perhaps would not be the most flattering choice).

I loved the double french-plaited top knots and incredible metallic fringing - this show made me feel I was in the presence of true fashion greatness.







Afterwards, we settled in for a late night blogging away in the office with wine and Jammy Dodgers for company. Because, y'know, we are hardcore like that.

More to come tomorrow!

GL

I am NOT Peaches Geldof! And Other London Fashion Week Stories...

So. London Fashion week has commenced. Let the games begin!

I have been a nervous wreck this week organising the Fash Ed's schedule, to the point where were blogging like mad yesterday and doing a Grazia story, then before I knew it it was 6pm and time for me to head off to the Triumph Inspiration Awards (for the boys: a lingerie event, with actual lingerie models. Nice!)

After legging it up and down New Oxford Street approximately 17 times I FINALLY found the venue. The Old Sorting Office is an incredible disused warehouse building that had been filled with fashionable types, including some hatefully perfect models posing in Triumph shapewear.

I thought I had got over that sense of dread and fear you get when walking into a crowd of strangers/nutters that work in fashion/people who are all sizing up each other's outfits, but I haven't. So I grabbed a watermelon martini (delish) for some stylish Dutch courage, while I surveyed the room – which is when the fun and games started.

There are lots of street chic snappers about (obviously) so it wasn't that weird for someone to ask to take a picture of me – although I did find it odd when they asked to have one taken with me. Next up a German journalist started interviewing me about the event, which I was happy to talk about, but it was only at the end of the interview when she said 'What's it like having a famous Dad?' that it suddenly clicked what was going on.

“Er, I'm not Peaches Geldof...” Oh how her little face dropped. I HATE looking like such a dimwit of a celebuwhore, but what can I do??! I can't change my face!

Just as I was introduced to some fellow bloggers (The Stitsh and The Style PA, as well as Jenny from Amelia's Magazine – check them out) it was time for the main event, which I reported on for Fashion Editor at Large here:

http://fashioneditoratlarge.blogspot.com/2010/09/it-was-triumph-no-it-was-sensation.html

Later on, I somehow managed to end up on the press coach. There another German journo asked me 'if I still wrote my column' and I literally had to convince her I was not the Geldof one, for the second time that evening. What is it with the Germans and pointless Peaches?! This is getting seriously annoying.

The coach took us for a very late night dinner at Bistrotheque (odd, wonderful restaurant by a building site in Hackney, that every fashionista has eaten at except newbies like me), where I dined on shrimp salad, butternut squash gratin and creme brulee at the godforsaken hour of 11.30 pm (great for the fashion waistline - not). The evening became more and more surreal as eventually the coach dropped us off at Liverpool Street, conveniently stumbling distance from my house. Awesome.

So that was opening night. Today has been even crazier, but as it is 9.34 and myself and the Fash Ed are only just leaving the office - it's not all glamour y'know- that will have to wait until tomorrow. Night night!

GL

It's All Gone A Bit Devil Wears Prada...

..but thankfully, minus the nightmare boss.

The run up to London Fashion Week is often glamourised by fashion films and TV documentaries - but it actual fact it is the most stressful time of the whole year (of my life?). It's also the most exciting, which is what keeps me going as I face a mountain of tasks to get through, in order to ensure the week runs smoothly for the Fash Ed.

I have been lucky enough this week to have gone with her to several designer previews, where we have snooped through their (still in progress!) collections and interviewed them about their LFW preparations. It has been truly surreal sitting in the studios of some of my favourite designers - although unfortunately I can't tell you which ones, otherwise Grazia might have me assassinated.

To be honest, life has turned into a little bit of a blur this past week, especially as I am now full-time with the Fash Ed, which does make me feel properly part of this crazy industry. Yesterday I felt the beginning of hysteria creeping up into my frazzled brain so I sent a message to my Dad which was the title of this post. In true Dad style, I got a message back that said:

'You can cope with a bit of pressure. Just be like Ugly Betty. x'
And that is why I love my family.

So, in pictures, this is what my life looks like this week:

(A random collection of things that are filling my brain, plus my bosses' dog Walter, with whom I travelled home in a taxi last night, to drop him off, in the leafy grandeur of West London, only for the cab to turn round and deposit me in my East London ghetto. A bizarre evening, but hey, that's fashion for you!)

Please forgive radio silence if it all goes a bit quiet over the next few days - I will try to blog during LFW, but if not, see you on the other side!

GL

Images: Glitterbird, Daily Mail