Fashion Week is always great for people watching, to see the mass of extremely well-dressed personalities in person rather than from a computer screen always gives me a buzz. To see either Margaret Zhang's layering prowess in live action or Christine Centenera's endless supply of perfectly tailored black blazers gives me such levels of excitement that only someone from #farshun can understand.
Or to see the exquisite Camilla Freeman-Topper the day I wore my favourite knit coat from Camilla & Marc, I had to visibly stop myself from hurdling my way through the crowds towards her just to y'know, casually walk pass and share a glance of appreciation with her. I really dream big, don't I?
After all the anecdotes that I've recounted to my boyfriend, stories that were suitably interjected with squeals of excitement, he has come to the conclusion that I've been brainwashed by Celine and now repeatedly says "Hail Celine!" (Captain America style -
Hail Hydra) whenever I prattle on. I'm just surprised he understands the goddess that is Phoebe and the importance of Celine.