I have walked these streets in my mind’s life over and over; the cobble stone streets, the carved decorative doors, the boulevards, the river Seine, I have seen them all. So it was forthwith that I effortlessly moulded into the Parisian way of life when I finally returned to my beloved Paris.
Fashion and Paris seem to work hand in hand, so it was only fitting that I would turn this duet into a perfect ‘trio triomphe’!
I arrived in Paris with no expectations, only with a suitcase of Micky In The Van pieces (8 kilos over maximum weight suitcase) and the only objective was to wear my designs to fashion shows in the hope I would be photographed. Please don’t be mistaken, there was no self worshiping, ego rendered “let me strike my best model pose as you photograph ME” intent here…. it was all in the name of promoting my label. I’ve come to realise that I am my label’s brand. I am flattered as much as I am overwhelmed that you all relate to me and find a kindred connection to my label through little me, the designer and face behind Micky In The Van.
So what did Cathy (my sister in law) and I do whilst we were there? Each morning we would wake up, sit at our kitchen table sipping on our coffee and going through the itinerary of what shows were being held on that day and decide which ones we would go to. We decided we would do two shows a day. Parades were held every hour or so all day, every day for the entire week, all strewn throughout Paris. We would do a show in the morning, come home, have a quick bite to eat and change outfits and head off to another show in the afternoon. We did this for the entire week (needless to say we were outfitted out by the end of the week!).
The first show… oh my…. the first show! To delve now into my memory box and relive this moment still takes my breath away. We decided to go to the Grand Palais for the Guy Laroche show. Cathy wore the Mon Colette Coat-Dress in white lace, and I in the Sovereign dress in khaki linen. As the cab turned the corner and we saw the Grand Palais and all the pandemonium outside it, both our backs arched up and we took a deep breath. Photographers in droves, women who tarried outside the shows wearing Chanel beaded tunics worn with Adidas sneakers, ripped jeans worn with Louboutin heels, Alexander Wang perfectly tailored coats, Miu Miu sunglasses, carrying Celine bags, Moschino Iphone cases. A sea of luxurious silks, wools, textured fabrics, plaid, stripes, fedoras, caps, bellhops, feathers, ruffles, broderie anglaise, beading…. oh it was endless and delicious. Stop. What was I about to throw myself into?
From that moment, my experiences and encounters at Paris Fashion Week changed me. My objective of being photographed in my designs was met and surpassed! But it became more than that, somehow, amidst the beautiful chaos at all the shows I became reacquainted with the old me… the one I thought was long gone, the girl who was adventurous, strong and courageous and believed anything was possible. Anything is possible! My work was admired and appreciated, encouraging me to applaud my own efforts as a designer and artist. I was in Paris… at PARIS FASHION WEEK, the pinnacle, the king, the top of the food chain of all fashion weeks and I was there. I created this, I made this happen. I recall reading a quote once (and Phoebe, aka Lady Melbourne recently reminded me of this); “I love the woman I’ve become because I fought hard to become her.”
Some images were taken by www.yourensemble.com