Years ago, after I finished my internship at MTV Networks in London during which I was expecting to be locked up in the mailroom, but instead was flown around Europe -sometimes 1st class- to help cover all the big festivals, I was so grateful for the experience that I vowed that if I ever bumped into a skilled and eager young individual myself, I would return the favour. So we took our own apprentice, the very talented and incredibly fun Immi Abraham, on an expenses-paid trip to London Fashion Week. Because we thought he deserved a chance. And because we are hoping that one day, he will pay it forward too.
Go ‘head Immi :
Yesterday KNOTORYUS had the honour of being invited to Vivienne Westwood’s RED label show at London Fashion Week. Dame Viv is an absolute living legend, so I was quite beside myself trekking along King’s Road to the Saatchi Gallery (longest road ever if you’ve got fifteen minutes to make it to a show and are limping with ‘fashion week feet’). About a hundred revelers had gathered outside the gallery, most of them street style photographers feasting on the wild outfits of some guests.
I shuffled through the masses in a most English of fashions (“pardon, sorry, oh bother”) and with bated breath I faced fashion’s most powerful gatekeepers: the clipboard-wielding pr’s. But I needn’t have worried and was ushered inside in a friendly way, only to find a seat on the front row! I let out a little shriek that startled the German press delegation. “Sie verstehen nicht, a front row seat is the Holy Grail of Fashion!”
Unsure of what to do now, I carefully read the Climate Revolution Charter that was placed on my seat as we all waited for the show to start. “Engage in art and culture (get off the consumer treadmill; discriminate, don’t suck up)”. Preach, Viv, preach!
All of a sudden, Clint Mansell’s harrowing soundtrack from Requiem for a Dream started playing and the first model appeared. “Click, tweet, tweet, upload, OMGZ no wifi, tweet some more, look at the clothes Immi you’re at a Vivienne show, what is this colour called, holy balls there’s another model coming, tweet, make a serious fashion face Immi you’re a professional”. Just a selection of thoughts flashing through my head at the show.
The collection was extremely vibrant, wearable and had Westwood written all over it. The metallics, the golden gogo-boots, the turquoise and egg-plant shades, the multi-colour stripes and drunken doll-face make-up exuded a joy that put a smile on many a journalist’s face (and mine obv). The see-through jelly heels and disco harem pants with oil-slick metallic vest took it home. In a T-shirt with a portrait of herself by Juergen Teller and the slogan “I am Julian Assange”, the queen of punk came out and waved as she trod by on giant platform heel sandals. The applause lasted quite some time, proving just how much she is respected and loved. At 71 years old, Vivienne Westwood is still rattling cages and shaping fashion, and you just can’t help but feel inspired by her unrelenting drive. When later on I decided against buying a Coke at McDonald’s on my way back, after feeling a pang of guilt for this blatant display of Western consumerism, all I could think was : well played, Dame Viv, well played.
IMMI ABRAHAM FOR KNOTORYUS
Thank you to the lovely Vivienne Westwood team for the invitation.
(additional images via style.com and Vivienne Westwood)
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