After a frankly insane six week schedule of work-derived sleep deprivation, I’m supposed to be taking a break from meetings and work stuff for a month to work on a big external project, and I am doing pretty well at that. The only fly in my sabbatical ointment is that it is press day season: where editors dutifully trot around the city to look at the SS14 collections after they come off the fashion week runways.
Of course it’s not just the high fashion stuff: all the retailers get in on the act too, across all the verticals from interiors to accessories, and some days I see I have over fifteen potential appointments. It is important to go to these things: designers fly in, entire collections are there to flick through, PRs are on hand to divulge nuggets of information and, if you are like me, with a zillion potential outlets in which to place content, there are story ideas floating in the ether. I get quite a lot of work from these appointments (sometimes I just describe my job as chatting. I do a lot of chatting). And it’s all great Twitter and Instagram fodder.
(LLG remains my personal space, so pretty much everything on here is something I want to blather on about, have experienced, have a strong opinion about, or just really like. It is always my words, my photos and my content. But I write for a bunch of other places too, on subjects as diverse as jewellery and travel and food, as well as doing consultancy, and so I am asked often for my thoughts on things, or recommendations, for press interviews, or on radio & TV, so it is really important that I remain up to date and know what is out there.)
So, much to my chagrin, because of my MUST DO WORK rule, I am having to cherry pick my appointments. I’m using a blunt tool for the winnowing: Google maps. We pin each appointment to a custom map for each day, I give myself two hours out of the house, and so I work out which press days are near other and anything on the periphery gets dumped. So yesterday I made it to Topshop, Hugo Boss and Chinti & Parker. Everything else was too far too get to in my allotted window.
Fortunately Monday was press day free, so I just had to get to Sloane Square for a meeting at five with a client. The aftermath of St Jude’s storm was still apparent: this was the apocalyptic sky over Camden at 1630hrs.
Although I am postponing all new meetings, breakfasts and lunches until January, I had a quick 9am client breakfast at Riding House Café on Tuesday am before appointment going kicked in. Avocado on toast — although they’ve changed it a bit. Not so good as it used to be *sniffs*.
Then I rode the bus down Regent Street, fizzing with glee, as I took my top left hand, upstairs front row seat. (Does the joy of getting the front seat ever grow old?
I hopped off at the bottom of Haymarket, and cut through to the Mall, by Admiralty Arch (soon to be turned into a luxe hotel). I had no idea that this was the site of the Wallinger sculpture.
My coccyx is still extremely sore from falling off the speaker’s podium at the Harper’s event the other week, so I am eschewing heels for the time being. Yesterday I was resplendent in Bloch black patent ballerines, J Brand Little Black Jeans (thank you Selfridges), a Jaeger brocade coat, and my Rosamund bag. (Psst lots of Blochs in The Outnet at the moment.)
Next up was Topshop Unique’s excellent SS14 presentation at the ICA.
Afterwards I walked to the Café Royal for Hugo Boss. Beautiful foyer flowers at the hotel
I had a lunch meeting with an editor, who was interviewing me for an American magazine, in Soho, so hopped into Soho House briefly to see the lovely Chinti girls, talk dogs, and place an order for this cashmere sweater (drops in November).
Lunch was at 10 Greek Street.
I had a lentil and squash pie and, because I cannot resist anything interesting sounding I made a request for the starter mushroom mousse as a side dish. It was excellent: essence of autumn on a plate.
Then home — to find these Bowers & Wilkins folding P3s waiting for me. Forget shoes, what an amazing gift!