Last week, I was at Somerset House, where the finals of Woolmark's menswear design competition took place as part of Men's Fashion Week. I had a bloodied "lamb" in tow to show people what's wrong with wearing wool. Everything about the production of wool is objectionable, especially the shearing process which often leaves sheep battered and bloodied...
Another lovely touch was the inclusion - without apology - of Isabella's more damaged items such as her scuffed Givenchy mules and the McQueen coat complete with cigarette burns. It's a lovely reminder that what Isabella loved, she wore. And wore and wore and wore. Nothing was saved for special occasions in her wardrobe.
Those who dismiss the fashion world as a vapid, ivory tower for people whose mouths are made for pouting and air-kissing (rather than eating) and models with cold dead eyes of sharks and the personality of a flannel, must visit the spectacular Somerset House exhibition, celebrating the late Isabella Blow.
Lunches, even just a sandwich, a drink and some sort of sweet thing to make the afternoon slightly more bearable rarely give much change from a tenner; rents are preposterous when compared to anyone at all living outside London; and it has never been easier to spend most of your salary on tube fares. But every once in a while, something comes along that's so fun, and unique- so unbelievably cool, in fact, that it reminds us why we are Londoners.