gail porter fashion plus magazine

Selfie Madness: London Fashion Week from the Eyes of Gail Porter

Makeup by MAC. Hair by.. a big razor. Was I really ready for this experience? I have spent the past 20 odd years working on stuff on the telly box. I’ve never cared much or worried about fashion. I always thought it was rather vacuous. But talking to the designers and listening to their passion over my first London Fashion Week, I realised I was rather naive.

Day One: I missed one show as, for some reason, I was invited to ‘Hedonism‘. I know it sounds rather naughty – which I kind of wished it was – but it was a champagne reception set up by the milliners. Get it – head-o-ism!? In Scotland we call our head our heid.. ‘Heidonism’ doesn’t seem to have the same erotic draw as hedonism has.

Gail Porter at London Fashion WeekI hung out with a wonderful milliner, Noel Stewart and a gorgeous girl called Katy Hunter. As a bald girl, it was most exciting to have fabulous hats to try on, plus having a wee cosy head was a double bonus. I was suddenly getting drawn in, quite literally, head first.

After I left ‘Hedonism’, I bumped into numerous people that wanted to give me their cards. At first, I was rather perturbed about this concept.. I was head to toe in Topshop! And when I say that, I was wearing skinny jeans (of which I have 4 identical pairs) and a t-shirt of which I have 10 identical copies. That is my fashion!

In the courtyard at Somerset House.. I have never seen so many people take selfies. Blogging, Tweeting, Facebooking, Instagram… We are 100% a social network society. Bless my 12 year old daughter, I remember writing letters. In fact, I still do. There is nothing nicer than receiving or sending a heart felt message from the heart. OH MY GOD I’m so old. I still have my old vinyls!! RIP ME!!

As the day was coming to an end, I was beginning to get invited to a number of parties. Extremely flattering as it was, I am 43 and Coronation Street was coming on. I politely declined, went home, had a cold shower and tended to my blistered feet.

Brogues I hadn’t worn for a year. Heels bleeding like crazy, I pretended it didn’t hurt. Blimey – as soon as I came home – a cold shower followed by feet in a basin! Rock and roll. I made it home in time for Coronation Street and didn’t even manage to rock it up to a party. But hey, it was day one.. give me a break! I’m old. I promise I will try and party like the fashion crowd do before Tuesday.

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