London Fashion Week Festival (LFWF, I’m abbreviating for later when I get fed up of typing it!) is an event held twice every year typically in February and September.
The event is for the general public to attend at a fee – there are ticket bands that correlate with what you’re allowed to do at the event. Having been writing for fashion articles for the past few months for a company in California, they invited me to go to the event and they would willingly pay the money. I would then cover the event through various articles for them. If you go on their website (I’m not giving it out for the privacy of the company etc) you’ll find my articles, they’re all well-written and polished.
In all the articles, what I fail to mention at any one point is that it’s a load of absolute shit.
Actually no, I wouldn’t say it’s all a load of shit as with my ticket (which the company paid for) I got a free tote bag (which I’m now using as a gym bag) that makes me look cool. Other than that, I wouldn’t ever go again in a million years and there are millions of reasons why.
Arriving at the event everything was very formal, the big, tall security guards instructed us where to go to collect the tote bags so we went.
That’s when things started going downhill. My tote bag was practically thrown in my face as I handed over my ticket and things only got better, trust me. The line was great. Waiting squashed in a queue of 100+ people to get let into a warehouse of hot, sweaty fashion wannabes is the only way I can describe the experience. Yet, the clothes that were available were insane, the rails of endless designers with some utterly strange designs took my eye everywhere. They were all on sale too, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t ever going to buy any piece of clothing from there (as I couldn’t afford it) but there were some good deals.
I think my main problem with the whole event, despite the poorly managed system of only being allowed in and out (there was no re-entry), was the fact that I felt so intimated by everyone there.
I’m no fashion expert by a mile. I know what’s fashionable, I just can’t pull off what models can and I don’t have the money to keep up with the constant trends that are always evolving. However, these people were just something else. Every look I felt like I was getting judged. I’m not self-conscious of my clothing but people there really didn’t make me feel comfortable at all. It truly felt like if you can’t afford Gucci you’re not worth their time. I mean, I wouldn’t ever say anyone looked horrible but the state of some of their clothes, they’re definitely not the ones to judge.
I saw a coat on sale for £595, SALE, needless to say, I bought 7.
Obviously, in that kind of situation, you want to get in and out as soon as possible so you don’t have to endure anything you don’t have to. Yet, lucky me had a ticket to the catwalk which was in an hour and a halves time and you’re not allowed. What are you meant to do for that amount of time in a few rooms swarmed with hundreds of people?
Well, I decided against it, it really wasn’t worth the wait or the hassle of staying around. One of the highlights of the day was getting 2 free copies of Elle and being able to just have a laugh the whole day with my boyfriend (who was an awfully good sport for coming with me anyway.) Despite hating the event itself, the day wasn’t a bad one, we had fun (no thanks too LFWF) and we both decided to never, ever go again.
Summed up I think it’s pretty simple, go to LFWF if you want some designer sales but really be willing to adhere to the rules of classic trendsetters and those basic bitches that hate your sweatshirt and jeans, you’ll have a ball. Personally, I’d keep the £50 you’ve got to pay for the ticket and go on a shopping spree in Cheshire Oaks one day instead.