Today’s Topic: Know your front row

On the brink of London’s Best Fashion Week Ever – a brilliant new venue, a show schedule bursting with talent – we bring you (better late than never, right?) an International Blockbuster Front Row. Yes, it took 25 years, but here they are, la crème de la crème will be taking up their front row pews this week and, frankly, we can’t wait to see them.

So, how to spot an A-row-ista? (Apart from the obvious positioning of her/his seat). Who’s who?
Let’s start with her Maj, the queen of the front row, indeed the ‘Pope’ of all editors, Anna. Clearly no surname required. You will know her by her power bob, inscrutable expression mostly behind large shades, her penchant for teal and lavender, fit ‘n’ flare knee-length skirts, cardigans round her shoulders, bare legs, no toe polish, nude heels. And fur. Will she bring the chinchilla? This is the question. Of course! Why would l’Anna give two hoots about what a nation of pet-loving, animal-obsessed, if mostly carnivorous-none-the-less Brits think? Pah! I’ll place bets on her donning a big fur chubby by day three and no black. Never, ever any black.
It is such a shame that Grace The Great won’t be joining Anna on the front row. So no September Issue sparring – editrix-in-chief versus creative colossus – I’m afraid. Instead, please acquaint yourselves with Tonne (that’s Tonnay) Goodman, Am Vogue’s fashion director, she of the skinny white jean, black roll neck, loafer and flaxen shoulder length hair. She’s neat and terrifyingly chic, Tonne. Looks like she’s just stepped out of an upmarket ad for The Hamptons, er, shot by David Sims.
Also jetting in from New York, Glenda Bailey, you’ll know her by her russet curls and fruity Derbyshire accent – always such a reassuring sign that glossy mag greatness doesn’t have to mean talking with a plum in one’s throat. Don’t miss, too, the Vanity Fair team comprising the formidable polish of Elizabeth Saltzman – the last word in high maintenance – and the elegant Michael Roberts (Note to designers: if Michael Roberts is at your show, you’re special; don’t forget to bow).  And now to the French, marvel at Citizen K’s Kappauf – the once generously proportioned fur-coat-n-white-tracksuit- wearing editor can now be seen sporting a Lagerfeld-esque supersvelte body and rock- n’ roll leathers – and don’t take your eyes off the French Vogue posse. How to describe them? Thin, obviously. But for Carine and her disciples, it’s not just how they use fashion to emphasise their sylphlike frames – the skinniest of jeans and highest of heels, naturellement – it’s all about which French brands they choose to be muses for.  I foresee Emmanuelle Alt thus: in a thigh-high boot created especially for her by Atelier Givenchy. But will Balmain’s sharp shouldered jackets still prevail? Un petit peu over, non?
Enjoy the spectacle, fellow Brits. Have a wardrobe bet with your friends (Will Anna favour Prada or Chanel this week? Or will she dumbfound us all with a little Louise Gray number? I wish!) Oh, and if for some reason you should tire of front row shenanigans, there’s always London’s formidable runway talent to entertain you – Marios, Erdem, Giles, Luella, Richard, Vivienne, the Christophers…

Report by Rebecca Lowthorpe

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