Standing on the balcony of a beautiful hotel suite trying to mask the feeling of bubbling excitement with an air of nonchalance, I am being introduced by a PR to someone who I think designs clothes although no one has made it quite clear. If I am honest, nothing has been quite clear about this week. A blur of immaculate faces, chiffon dresses and bizarre sunglasses, the closest I have come to a familiar face is catching a glimpse of Peaches Geldof as she stomped her way through the crowds. I have been lucky enough to attend London Fashion Week for the first time and I am, quite frankly, reeling.

My week began last Friday morning with the Corrie Nielsen show in a dark vacuous warehouse close to Tottenham Court road. It was everything you could want from your first show; black cavernous showroom, bright white catwalk, small box of cake on each seat (I’m still not quite sure why, but I am never one to complain about free cake) and beautifully bizarre outfits, all oversized voluminous pockets with bouffant hair that conjured up images of victorian bell skirts right through to geisha girls. I left high on the atmosphere and cake icing.

Whizzing through to evening, I found myself talking to a 7ft blow up doll. Her name is Pandemonia, the creation of an unknown male artist who makes and wears a full body suits in Latex complete with dress, handbag and blow up hair. Sitting in the 5^th row of block f in Somerset House, waiting for the PPQ show to start, Abbie Warner–the deputy editor–and I watched as she tottered into the main show space swarmed by photographers and well wishers, a mass of bodies swirling around her bright orange dress and octopus like inflatable hair.

The show started, a riot of 90s denim, huge blouses and old tunes. I spotted Hilary Alexander, ex Fashion editor for The Telegraph dancing around in her seat in the front row. Her enthusiasm rippled down the line so that even the most serious audience members were tapping their toes in observance to the beat.

After the show, standing in the foyer we saw the 7ft vision again, slowly stuttering out of the doors to the next event. The crowds had moved on and her height, previously magnificent and dominating, now looked awkward, and uncomfortably obvious. Not certain where to go next, we all mulled around together in the courtyard before gingerly making our way across the cobles in our heels to catch a taxi. It is surprisingly difficult to conduct a conversation with someone whose ears are covered by a sheath of plastic and only has a mouth hole the size of a small piece of asparagus, but we managed a little as she squeaked about on the leather seat. We arrived, said our goodbyes and she was gone, swallowed by the buzz leaving us with two after party tickets.

The weekend arrived and I decided I should make a little more effort. A day of being surrounded by absurdist fashion had already seeped into my consciousness and suddenly my mac and mulberry didn’t seem to quite cut it. Luckily, I had been leant pieces by young designers Louise Bennets and Claire Felicity Miller. Donning an oversize white and grey blazer with an undersized t-shirt, I tottered through Saturday’s shows in my heels until a fashionista in a hurry and a pair of stilettoes had other ideas and left a dent in my left foot.

Sunday’s show highlight was Marcus Lupfer’s animal inspired collection. Fitted with snouts, beaks and even whiskers, Lupfer’s models perched serenely in the corner of the presentation room, quietly surveying the scene from on high

(apart from the model dressed as a wolf, who was clearly enjoying the role and insisted on emitting a howl every few minutes).

Come Monday, I was starting to get into the swing of things just in time for the biggest show I attended that week; Temperly at the British Museum. Powering through the gates and up the steps, I focused on looking business like, underwhelmed, fashionably aloof. Into the main chamber, under the lights and I lost it, dropped like last season’s ballerina trend. Hundreds of seats laid out in a neat square surrounded the bottom of the two giant curved staircases. Despite the fact that it was 8:30pm, many of the crowd were still wearing sunglasses and I realise that this was the first time I had been able to see the faces of the audience; most other shows had kept the venue in anticipatory shadow, twilight before the dawn of the show. Resisting the urge to gaze up like a small child at the museum’s huge glass ceiling, I scurried off to my seat and the show eased into motion. Everything was effortless, the outfits, the walks, the atmosphere. The click of cameras became a thunderous echo, masked by the music so that it sounded like a drum roll. Models lined the steps, statuesque to the point where they resembled the exhibits. And then it was over. As we spilled out on to the street, the paparazzi bumped into me, walking backwards, running in front of someone. They parted and ran behind me and for a moment I was stuck in the middle with a Middleton. She walked on. I checked for the corner of my jacket in the photos the next day. They seem to have edited it out.

The final catwalk of the week, A Child of the Jago. In a delicate Nicola Swing dress borrowed from Tephi, I weaved my way through Tower Hill to the crumbling decadence of Wilton’s Music Hall.

As the son of Vivienne Westwood, you can hardly expect Joe Corre to be anything short of eccentric and I had high hopes just from surveying the crowd. Sitting on the front row was a girl who could not have been much more than 14, hair bleached and spiked into bunny rabbit ears, strange purple and brown lines drawn around her eyes. Even with my newly accumulated respect for the conceptual, the only thing her make up reminded me of was a five-year-old let loose with some felt pens. Still, she wasn’t quite as strange as the woman in the chainmail headdress sitting opposite her. Jumping into action, the Dick Whittington inspired show had swagger and smiles, panto wench inspired make up and side smirks from the male models. I must admit, no one had quite prepared me for the male models.

Still swooning, I stumbled on to the final event of the week. Panting slight now, I stepped into what resembled a dinner reception out of Casino Royale. Men with silk cravats swirled burgundy drinks in cut glass tumblers, chatting over-enthusiastically, up lit in red. It took a few moments to realise that this was the exhibition; a drinks do with a difference, where some of the other guests are the act. Too tired to determine whether this had confused anyone else I wandered outside and quietly stood to the side, staring at the city, happy, excited and still ever so slightly baffled.

Besides the exquisite lingerie, their head office is just as beautiful! Have you ever image working everyday on a gold glitter desk? And the walls, shelfs and wardrobe are painted in the prettiest pink ever!  You will have a feeling of being really spoiled in this fantasy place! Also very convenient for visiting McQueen’s Polar Bear office which is on the same street. xx

I’d been drinking a lot and I remember the cold night air hitting me and instantly feeling rather erm… odd.

Leaning on my friend Joe he was distracted from telling the event organiser that yes we are on the list and yes we should be let in and to ignore me: ‘oh she’s fine… she’s just on medication for herp’ by shouting ‘DAD’

And as I was having a proper go at Joe for telling some random event person about ‘my HERPES? HERPES WHICH… I DON’T HAVE’ Mr M came over.

Malcolm McClaren, punk pioneer: 22 January 1946 – 8 April 2010

Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren were the (punk) ‘It’ couple of the 70s

The iconic fashion designer, who ran a Kings Road S&M clothing shop called SEX with her former boyfriend in the 70s, said of his passing: “When we were young and I fell in love with Malcolm, I thought he was beautiful and I still do.

“The thought of him dead is really something very sad. We hadn’t been in touch for a long time.”

Her son with Sex Pistols manager McLaren,Agent Provocateur founder Joe Corre, added that his 64-year-old dad was “the original punk rocker” who revolutionised the world: “He’s somebody I’m incredibly proud of. He’s a real beacon of a man for people to look up to.”

High praise for the punk pioneer, who died in New York yesterday, also came from Alan Yentob – creative director of the BBC – who said his friend was “a very significant figure in British music”.

“Malcolm was a man of ideas. He was fascinated by ideas and was always ready to talk up the provocative,” explained Yentob.

“He said his grandmother told him it was good to be bad – he wanted to shock and surprise you”

Young Kim, McLaren’s partner of 12 years, commented that the “ultimate post modern artist” probably recognised his impact on culture: “Everyone asks who was Malcolm McLaren , everything he did was ground-breaking, as an artist he carried on the link from Andy Warhol.”

Music journalistJon Savage, author of punk history “England’s Dreaming”, agrees that “without Malcolm McLaren there would not have been any British punk”.

“He’s one of the rare individuals who had a huge impact on the cultural and social life of this nation,” he remarked.

New York Dolls, another punk band once managed by McLaren, first met the impresario at a clothing trade show in 1971.

Sylvain Sylvain, the band’s bassist, described him as “really a sweet guy”: “I never saw the other side of him. But I guess you have to be a tough guy to make your way to the top in this scumbag business… I’m just going to miss him so much.”

Jah Wobble, original bass player in Sex Pistol John Lydon’s next bandPublic Image Ltd, also alluded to the controversy associated with McLaren by deeming him “a likeable rogue”.

“He was a very interesting character… Not without faults, but we all have our faults. But the faults made him better,” said the musician, whose real name is John Wardle .

“He had a great sense of fun. His sense of humour was a great redeeming factor.”

Johnny Rotten on Malcolm McLaren: “I will miss him, and so should you”

John Lydon, otherwise known asJohnny Rotten, echoed Jah Wobble’s comments with his own tribute: “For me Malc was always entertaining, and I hope you remember that.”

“Above all else he was an entertainer and I will miss him, and so should you.”

McLaren: Always controversial.

The controversial impresario – who once boasted that he invented punk rock – died after a long battle with the disease.

‘Without Malcolm McLaren there would not have been any British punk,’ said journalist Jon Savage, who wrote England’s Dreaming, the award-winning history of the Sex Pistols and punk. ‘What he did with fashion and music was extraordinary. He was a revolutionary.’

Profile: Malcolm McLaren: Career built on Sex, togs and Rock n Roll

His son, Joe Corre, added: ‘He was the original punk rocker and revolutionised the world.

‘He’s somebody I’m incredibly proud of. He’s a real beacon of a man for people to look up to.’

London-born McLaren shot to fame when the Sex Pistols released God Save The Queen during the silver jubilee year of 1977. He led claims that the charts were rigged

after the song was kept off the top spot by Rod Stewart’s I Don’t Want To Talk About It.

Anarchists: McLaren with the Sex Pistols as they sign their record contract at Buckingham

Fashion designer Vivienne Westwood paid tribute to her former boyfriend. ‘When we were young and I fell in love with Malcolm,

I thought he was beautiful and I still do,’ said the 69-year-old.

‘I thought he is very charismatic, special and talented.’

You have got to hand it to the women…. she is AMAZING!

This is for Stuart:

Lingerie boss Joe Corre called at the flat of his friend Luca Mainardi, 48, only to walk in on a suicide scene.

Provocative: The brand is known for its raunchy side

A source toldThe Sun: “It was a nightmare for him to stumble across the suicide of his closest friend. Naturally he is devastated.”

Joe and Luca were bandmates together, playing in electro band Dirty Stop Out with former-Clash player Mick Jones.

The band had been recording a new album the night before he died.

The source said: “Joe and Luca spent their free time together haning out and making music. Luca smoked a lot of cannabis and was very moody.”

He added that aspects of the friendship were “strange” and the Joe appeared to bankroll Luca’s projects and covered his rent.

A spokeman for the lingerie brand said: “Mr Corre is not present to comment.”

Models took to the catwalk for the intimate show at the Soho Grand Hotel to show off the Soiree collection, which Agent Provocateur describes as ‘the most exquisite lingerie in the world’.

Model poses for Agent Provocateur’s new Soiree collection

Wearing deep red lipstick and heavy eye make-up, leggy models showed off daring designs featuring cup-less satin and lace bras and an outfit that was covered in Swarovski strands.

SEE MORE PICTURES FROM THE AGENT PROVOCATEUR SHOW

The premium collection features pieces that cost up to a mouth-watering £2,450 and appears to be heavily inspired by burlesque fashion with its nipple caps, bows, stockings and suspenders.

For those who are into something a bit more edgy, one model wore a leather-studded outfit that left little to the imagination, and another who had a tight black corset with two-inch spikes coming out of the back.

Models wore full-length hand-beaded lace nightgowns for something a little more classic.

The label, which is owned by Vivienne Westwood’s son Joe Corre, will be available in select stores including London’s Harrods, where it launches exclusively on November 1, followed by Selfridges on November 14.

The store overseen by Joe Corre and Barnzley Armitage with its scissor printed T shirts hanging menacingly in the window is a treasure trove of clothing, music and general anarchy. It therefore should be visited. Shops with this kind of soul are few and far between.

This photo was not taken last week, posed by a handsome male model in this seasons Prada but was in fact taken in 1865 by police who had arrested Lewis Thorton Powell for his involvement in the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.

Knowing this, and reading that Powell was executed for his involvement means that I can’t take my eyes of it.

Oddly I didn’t notice that his hands are in irons until I went back to it yesterday.

Lewis Thornton Powell

Performing live on stage, Corre’s band Dirty Stop Out, which also includes The Clash’s Mick Jones, provided the soundtrack for one of Agent P’s infamous fashion shows, which took on the theme of Pirate Provocateur.

Brit pop stars unite! Sugababe Keisha Buchanan and Leona Lewis teamed up for a night on the town, and stopped by the Agent Provocateur party in Camden.

Out to support her son, Agent P founder Joe Corre, Vivienne Westwood pulled up a front row seat for the launch of his debut album. She was joined by her partner, Andreas Kronthaler.

The Danish star poses as a pirate queen in a new pirate provocateur fashion shoot, upstaging younger stars like Alice Dellal.

Agent Provocateur founder Joe Corre said: ‘She fits the bill perfectly as our Pirate Queen.’

A video accompanying the launch features the models fighting with swords in the heart of an old galleon, while seducing male pirates in skimpy briefs.

Recent stars of the lingerie brand include Daisy Lowe, actress Maggie Gyllenhaal and David Bailey’s wife Catherine.

Check out Agent Provocateur‘s new ads for their bridal collection starring Kate Moss. This one above is kind of Russ Meyer 2008, but actually, these photos are a response to a script called White Wedding written by Agent Provocateur founder Joe Corr�. The story is told in 6 scenes, starting with “The Happiest Day of Her Life” (bottom) and ending with “Let Them Eat Cake.”

This one below is scene 5, entitled “Revenge.”

The photographer behind these ads is Nick Knight, who I first became aware of back in high school when my friends and I were obsessed with his book Skinhead. We were both attracted to and repelled by Knight’s pictures of the East London Skins, so it makes sense that he’s been able to cause the same mixed emotions here, even with Kate Moss (not disgruntled skinheads) as his subject.

You can see the films that go along with the photos at SHOW Studio (just click on the pictures).

-Valentina

Photo Source.

She was kicked to the curb. And then she wasn’t. Now she’s back and she looks just like she does in all her photos-high on coke and wanting to have sex. Ah! It sells!

Kate Moss is one lucky bitch. Nick Knight is stuck so far up her butt that she’s made for life in the fashion world. You have to give her props-if she put her mind to it, she could probably run as Prime Minister!

I just watched as they asked some locals in the poor Northern town for Bury in Lancs, why they are now voting Conservative. The woman said in her Lancashire drawl ‘It’s coze eez dead charismatic like. Don’t care what eez sayin-g. Need a chaaa-ange.’

Fuck off.

As usual this vid is stylistically stunning.

Kate Moss is playing a ‘virgin‘ in this scene-in a nutshell the whole concept and premise of ‘White Wedding’ is that she descends into some kind of debauched madness-ha apt Moss!!

My only reservation is Kate Moss herself-she looks too sleazy. At one point it looks like she’s going to start fingering herself-we all know she’s a dirty stop out but I didn’t think it looked that good-just provocative for the sake of it, which is a pity as Joe Corre, wrote it and it sounded exciting.

As usual they try and keep the excitement by getting us to go back and forth to log on each night until the finale. I certainly won’t cause it ain’t all that. As a creative I’ve done similar fashion/film projects-which is why I do really love Nick Knight-we share a similar aesthetic.

But as usual the hype precedes itself but I think the only reason this is it’s cause they’ve used Kate Moss.

It’s tiring. And lazy on their part.

LINK

Straight from SHOWstudios mouth..

“The product of a grand collaboration with lingerie giant Agent Provocateur to mark the launch of their bridal range, ‘White Wedding’ is a groundbreaking exploration in extending a narrative advertising campaign to also create an experimental film series. Responding to a six-part script treatment written by Agent Provocateur founder Joe Corré, Nick Knight and a stellar cast including Kate Moss and artists Jake and Dinos Chapman have created six striking campaign stills that storyboard “the demise of a bride’s ‘big day’ and serialise the unravelling of the religious organisation behind it”.

From film footage captured whilst shooting the six shots entitled ‘The Happiest Day of Her Life’, ‘The Garden of Eden’, ‘Bad News’, ‘Frenzy’, ‘Revenge’ and ‘Let Them Eat Kate’, Nick Knight has pushed each image into new visual territories, projecting motion imagery onto interpretative props and filming it, to capture this abstraction ‘in camera’, rather than in post production. The result is an intriguing set of stylish shorts depicting Kate Moss running the gamut from demure virgin bride to dangerous, Lynchian siren that suggests new applications and creative potential for fashion film in advertising.”

Keep your knickers on. In a nut shell-it’s Mosside withering stiffly trying to look sexy and pouting at the camera. They have the use of the black models to create the contrast with all white ‘virginal’ Kate and it looks good. I personally prefer the ‘faceless’-as they seem, black models-they seem sexier then Kate.

She looks haggard and out of it. But who cares?

TAKE ME TO SEE VID!!

Agent Provocateur’s Guantánamo Bay Protest – ‘Fair Trial My Arse’ Panties

(TREND HUNTER) Never one to shy away from controversy, Agent Provocateur’s co-founder Joe Corre thought of a creative protest message when he discovered that members of the U.K. human rights charity Reprieve had been accused of smuggling underwear to a prisoner held at Guantánamo Bay. And out came the “Fair Trial… [More]