London Fashion Week is a witch.

8.45pm - on the last leg of my journey home.

Today has been.. emotional.. which is an understatement but an appropriate enough word.
There has been swearing...tension...mad sprinting to & from the studio.
There have been tears.
There have been emergency bottles of Cava opened (bought by myself - first time for everything hey..)

Though 70% of the time I am lucky enough to be part of a sweet, chilled out team..

..the run up to LFW is evil.

In-house PR has given me the chance to see what exactly goes into launching your own label. There are an infinite amount of tasks, you have to completely trust those you hire to competently complete the job you pay them for.
When a major store put in a big order for your collection, they don’t care that your seamstress did wonky stitches or screwed up the buttonholes on a shirt. They don’t want to be told that half the order got left out of the delivery because the DHL courier guy was an ass and wouldnt wait 2 minutes for the 2nd box of clothes. They don’t want to hear that 5 tshirt dresses were printed on jersey instead of crepe de chine. They either have the full order or they don’t. No matter what the outcome is, the designer is the one it all reflects onto.

The phrase of the day has been a distressed 'Why didn't I just open a chippie instead' muttered under breath as the next crisis unravels.

LFW is september 16th - 20th. The crazy continues..