My Fashionable Life

On Tuesday I received a call from the beautiful Miss Hofit Golan, socialite extraordinaire and Fashion TV presenter. She was covering the Liberty 10 Corso Como launch event with her crew and invited Yours Truly to hop on board the party train. So off I went (another fashion mate in tow - one can never be too prepared for the awkward moments). We managed to bluff our way into another very sophisticated soiree on the 4th floor, full of ironic photography, beautiful people and more importantly free wine before realising the fashion party we were destined for was, in fact, three floors below. After a minor guestlist moment on the door, we were in and attacking the canapes. After some schmoozing with Hofit and her fashionista friends we headed for the central table to check out the collaboration collection. Liberty hooked up with the famous Milan-based concept store 10 Corso Como to produce a range of silk scarves, swimwear, shirts, ties, purses and bags. The line is sure to be snapped up by Liberty print devotees, especially the adorable bikini which strikes just the right balance between Pucci and paisley.

As we were browsing, people watching and generally milling around waiting for our photograph to be taken (it is one of the few sad joys of my existence that I'm still thrilled every time I get mistaken for a celebrity/someone vaguely important), I glanced to my left. Anna Wintour. No seriously people, Anna bloody Wintour. Now lads, I nearly wet myself with the sheer excitement of it all. Mouth agape, I was literally clawing at my friends sleeve trying to alert her, with all the powers of speech of a newborn child. Possibly the most influential woman in the Western world, bar Oprah (don't worry, you're still my number one), was standing right next to me for crying out loud. The camera crews buzzed around the far side of the table snapping and whirring, all desperate to get a shot of the real star of the night. That's how my dream came true. Let's not forget that I was beside her at this point. So that means that someone, somewhere has a photo with me and Anna side by side, looking like the bestest of best friends, laughing girlishly over our champagne flutes. Well not quite, I'll obviously have my mouth hanging open and she'll be staring in the opposite direction, but you get my drift.

Well ladies, I was on a high for the rest of the evening. I could barely contain myself on the train home. I obviously had a very loud phone conversation with my friend about this in front of the other late night commuters even though I doubt any of the financial suited-and-Aldo-booted types had the foggiest who I was wittering on about. I skipped home, burst through the door and dived into the story of my evening for my fashion-industry flatmates. For some curious reason, no one seemed quite as excited as I was. Just my personal heroine then? Anna love, you made my Fashion Week.