La Voguette: Fashion Week...

As I sit here typing in my student accommodation (not even an en-suite - mon dieu!) I can't help but notice that my life seems to have taken an unglamourous turn from the glory days that were French and British Vogue. James Joyce's Ulysses now sits on my desk, replacing my diary-esque Chanel lookbook and the closest thing I have to couture is my sewing kit.
Oh the joys of being a finalist...

So I have decided to take this opportunity to reminisce about my experience at Paris Fashion Week earlier this year, it seems somewhat appropriate as the Spring/Summer Collections have just drawn to a close.

Where to begin?

The front row of course!

Now there was obviously some confusion that glorious day back in March when I, a humble intern turned up to the Atsuro Tayama show clutching my hand-me down invitation - you see, editors decide what shows they want to attend and any left over invitations are then left for little people like me.

"Wait here please Mademoiselle".
Oh gosh, ok...but why can't I just go in? I bet Carine doesn't get this sort of treatment!

So I stood waiting, eyeing up every passer by with thoughts of god help you, did you get dressed in the dark? or o.m.g i want your bag! I hoped that I was giving off some sort of effortless allure, you know - clearly this girl has been asked to wait behind because she is so blatantly a Voguette and not because someone is playing a cruel joke and given her a fake invitation. But then more people were asked to wait. Relax Charlene.

Finally, we get the go ahead and are asked to follow a man upstairs to the venue. This is when I was shown to a seat in the front row.

O.M.G.

I couldn't help but smile to myself, the wait was so worth it. Yes you may have the latest Chloé bag on your arm darling but enjoy the show from the third row won't you?

Cue the music, SKINNY models (these girls definitely lived up to the stereotype) and ACTION.